#I LOVE HOW YOU DREW HIM OP!!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tacticaldiary · 8 months

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I love your fics so much 😍😍😍 could you please write a ghost x wife reader where he has a nightmare about losing them

Solace For The Rough Nights

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

"I killed you." It's a harsh whisper, almost involuntary, as if his body couldn't bear to keep the poisonous thought in a second longer. "Shot you straight through the head. I didn't-"

"I'm alive. Here. With you. It was just a nightmare, love."

Masterlist

Ghost was running.

Footsteps crunching on dried leaves, he weaves through the trees, shaking off the sounds of harshly barked orders, as crisp and as hold as the cold air around him.

The trees around him are densely packed together, a mixing pot of leaves, roots, and coarsely misplaced footsteps.

He can't remember how he got here, or what op he was on and it sends his normally razor-focused mind into a slight frenzy.

Ghost is a man of action. A plan and a way to execute it was all he needed to bring back a victory in tow, but right now he has neither of those things, hasn't even a bare recollection of ever having those things in the first place.

What was a Ghost without a purpose to haunt?

He stumbles.

It's already an odd situation. Ghost doesn't stumble or hesitate. He's a well-oiled machine, self-sufficient and cut-throat. Missteps are simply not viable with him, especially not something as simple as tripping.

Catching himself on his arm, he swings around, gun already aimed towards the ground, sees a vest-clad figure sprawled over the ground under him.

He fires without thinking. A bullet straight to the head, brain matter splattering the trees and forest, the expanse of his arms. The impact of the bullet jolts the body onto its back and-

Every part of him freezes in pure, undiluted horror.

Because his wife stares up at the sky, eyes unseeing, eerily still. Her hair bloodstained, splayed out onto the ground caught in twigs and branches, face filthy with dirt and crimson that he drew from her.

He's not sure when the trembling starts, only that it begins with his hands and travels up his spine, singeing his soul with a terror that would marr him forever. Circumstances completely forgotten, he drops to his knees in front of her, hands shaking as he calls out her name, pressing his fingers to her neck to find a pulse as if he hadn't just blown her brain out and-and fuck it was still on his arms, his hands, the blood was everywhere and there was no way Ghost had just taken the one thing he wanted to keep in his life-

A strangled sound leaves his lips, not a laugh and not quite a cry. He wants to laugh at the irony.

He's always been so afraid that someone would hurt her at his expense, that someone would take her away, tear her apart from him.

He never thought it'd be him who carried out the deed.

Nothing comes out of his mouth, because nothing can fix this. He gathers her into his arms, shaking silently. He deserves this, deserves to suffer in silence with what he's done.

The release of crying was not one he deserved.

"Fuck, I-...you're okay." His voice breaks, rough and gritty, and desperate. "I didn't-I swear I-..."

Someone's voice sounds behind him but he refuses to look back, letting the screaming in his head, the crescendo of grief consume him. His hands never let up from touching her, pressing her against himself as if his own heartbeat may bring her to life.

How could someone like her face the end when someone as disgustingly tainted and bloodstained as him continued on living?

It wasn't right, but then again, the world never was fair.

He registers he's panicking, knows that he can't quite get a full breath in and that the noise of talking is getting louder but death itself would be the only thing to take him away from her.

"..i..on."

He squeezes his eye shut, rasping out suffocating breaths.

"Simon...Simon!"

His eyes snap open, a strangled gasp tearing out of his throat. It's blindingly dark, and he's...there's hands on him. Steeling himself he sits up hazy and confused, lingering panic making his throat close up.

A click and the room fills with light.

Room. He's in...he's in his room. He's in their room.

"You okay?"

Her voice makes him shiver violently, ignites his frayed nerves. He's almost afraid to look over lest he find her bloody and mangled, because she was, wasn't she? He'd seen it, held her, felt guilt choke him and...

But there weren't any leaves here. No trees, and no blood on his hand (that was the first thing his eyes had snapped down to confirm.)

With a shaky breath, he finally turns his head towards her voice.

Some of the hastily built scaffolding inside him collapses at the sight of her. Alive. Well. Clean.

Worried.

Patient as always, she's waiting for him to get his bearing, not wanting to swarm and overwhelm him.

"Simon?" Her voice is a crack of softness a man like him doesn't deserve. The sheets rustle as she shifts closer. "You were tossing around, mumbling something." She furrows her brows, coming to sit in front of him. "You're all sweaty. Do you feel ill?" The back of her hand presses against his forehead, and the touch snaps something in him.

Breaks apart the harrowing gates of relief, but also smashes the wave of diluted panic he'd been too disorientated to feel.

His hand snaps to her wrist, a gentle and firm hold. Her eyes widen but she doesn't interrupt, lets him press his lips against her pulse point with trembling fingers. "You're all right." He breathes out, half to himself.

"I'm right here." She reassures him immediately. It loosens up his shoulders a little, but he still reaches out to her, pulls her close into a hug so crushingly tight it knocks the breath out of her.

She hugs him tighter, still.

Simon wasn't a hugger, so something must really have shaken him up.

"Hey..." She mumbles against his shoulder.

Simon pulls back, hands travelling up her arms, her shoulders, her neck, to press against her temples. His gaze flickers down to his own arms, then back to her head.

"Talk to me, baby." She says quietly, letting him ground himself. His hands tangle in her loose hair, weaving the strands between his fingers as if he might pick out phantom leaves and twigs. "Why so worked up?"

"I killed you." It's a harsh whisper, almost involuntary, as if his body couldn't bear to keep the poisonous thought in a second longer. "Shot you straight through the head. I didn't-"

"You didn't."

The sharp interrupting startles him enough to still his hands from where they've been mapping out her skin to ensure it was still unmarred.

"You didn't." She repeats. Gently untangling his hand from her hair, she brings it to press against her chest, right over where her heart is. "I'm alive. Here. With you. It was just a nightmare, love." She smiles and Simon feels his heart twist. The way she leans forward to press her lips to his is a kind of gentle he's still getting used to. "You're not getting rid of me any time soon." She whispers against his lips, a warmth that's a welcome reprieve from the shivers that wracked his body moments prior.

They sit there taking in each other's presence until Simon's thoughts slow from a sprint to a run to a walk, until the taste of copper, and the tang of iron fade from his senses.

Until it's just her, just them. In their bed, in their home. Off duty and safe.

When she slides her hands up to his shoulders, pushing him down he goes willingly, lets her straddle him. Never once do his hands leave her, they wrap around her hips to keep her steady.

"Tell me about it?" She asks, hands on his chest. After a moment of thought, Simon shakes his heavy with a long, heavy exhale.

"I'd rather not think about it." He rasps.

"It might help." The gentle shapes she traces on his chest give him something to latch onto. "I don't want you to deal with these nightmares alone." She snakes a hand up to his head, gently tapping his temple. "Don't want you to get stuck here without me. We're a team, right?"

"I suppose we are." He hums. Simon considers changing the subject, letting it go and falling back to sleep, but the need to get these vile thoughts out of him...

So he talks.

For once, he talks.

Simon tells her in halting phrases and clenched fists about what he remembers, how he held the gun, how there was no hesitation pulling the trigger.

His tension is met with hums and soothing circles rubbed onto his skin, keeping him with her even when he unravels the threads of his worst nightmare.

"I remember thinking how I was the one who took your life." He swallows harshly. "How I lost someone else...how it'd have been my fault." She doesn't comment on the fact that his grip on her hips has tightened considerably as he spoke.

"Well you haven't shot me yet, so I think we're safe for now."

Her attempt at a joke is met with a blank glare, but she snickers anyway. "Look Simon, if it'd be anybody I'd have liked it to be you-"

"No."

Her smile falters at the way he pushes up onto his elbows. "No?"

"I wouldn't..." He gathers his thoughts, clenches his jaw briefly. "I'd rather cut my own hands off, love."

"That's a bold claim, but-"

"It's a promise."

The conviction he says it with renders her speechless. His eyes so firm and determined and honest in the meagre light of their nightlamp sparks a warm heat through her, a reminder of how much she loves the man under her, of why she adores him.

He means what he says. It should scare her, someone so willing to go that far, but instead it's a fierce reassurance that her passion is returned. Maybe not in hugs or dopey smiles, but instead in moments like these, with promises that carve their way into their very bones, etching the proof of devotion into permanence.

She tips her head forward until their foreheads are pressed together. "I love you, Simon." She whispers. "So fucking much. I'm not going anywhere, alright. Not without you."

A hand wraps around the back of her neck, tugs her down to crash their lips together, the only affirmation she needs. He pulls her down until they're a tangle of limbs and breaths.

He doesn't need to say it back. Not when his hands burn sparks into her skin, when his arms around her guarantee safety and protection like nobody else can provide.

"You're here." He breathes, like he needs to.

"I'm here." A kiss pressed to the underside of his jaw. "I'm here."

And he finally believes it.

Requests Are Open! Reblog, Like and Comment!

(16/08/2023)

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 7 months

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i’ve never requested anything from anyone so i’m a lil nervy butttt…

i’d love a relationship arc with the one and only soap! i love him and his lil mohawk! like he’s stationed wherever and he meets then falls in love with a native citizen who works closely with the military and their relationship from when they first meet to first date to first kid to marriage (100% doesn’t need to be in that order btw)

everything you come up with is 🤌 so i know it’ll be good!🤍🤍

—Life Snaps By In Flashes

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [A collection of memories from the second he laid eyes on you. All flashing past in the soft buzzing of the overhead lights.] ❞

It was by some dumb luck that he’d locked eyes with you that day, decades ago now, but he carries that memory with him like a dog with a bone. Stuck under the glow of the overhead lights, Soap calls them all forward—the good, the bad, the moments of peaceful nothing.

It had been on an OP, out in the field on surveillance for another threat. You had served him a coffee at a cafe, given that kind smile, and he had been gone far before he had been called to move in. Johnny was surprised at how fast it had happened, but he had always been easy to gather affection from, truthfully.

And when he had found out that you were an informant? Beautiful, smart, and reliable? He had half stuttered his way through a fake confident question for your number, and you had happily agreed with a smirk. You told him it was because of his honesty—the intentions clear on his face from the moment you’d walked through the door of the military base, written intel under your left arm and a recorder in your right palm.

He thought you were perfect from only one glance, and he had never thought otherwise.

Of course, there were fights, and disagreements about the job and the safety of each other. That was fair—it was natural. That was life, and what would the purpose be unless to prove that the two of you loved with all of your souls?

The first date was common, nothing fancy—a nice, casual supper at a restaurant that would be frequented far into your older years. Everyone there would end up knowing your names, the owner himself being invited to your wedding.

Oh, the wedding. Johnny can call that forward as easily as air. Or, at least, as easily as air used to come to him.

You, in that dress, staring at him and walking down that aisle. Everything else had blurred that day, and all he could care about was how you looked at him—standing just ahead with your hands in his shaky ones; his lips quivering as he pushed out a shocked laugh.

“You look…amazing, Bonnie. Lord, you’re just perfect.” You had laughed at his hushed whisper above the muttering of the officiant, eyes glassy. Johnny had tried to stifle his hoarse inhales as you called him handsome right back.

From then came the next journey—kids. Many of them. Johnny had as big of a family as he and you had always wanted; adventures and hardships. Football games and music shows, painting exhibits, and movie nights where everyone was snuggled together. His blue eyes staring at you over the heads of your brood.

Every night he would thank you for it. Every night.

The years drew and drew, retirement and the kids going off to Uni—leaving and getting married themselves. Wrinkles. Graying hair.

Until here.

Until muscles broke down and you needed a wheelchair, Johnny a cane. Until the kids had thought it better to make his office into an at-home care room for the two of you—a live-in nurse down the hall.

The kids had visited yesterday with their own little ones. The older ones had known, of course, just by looking. Smart devils, Johnny had called them when they were just tiny things. And they were.

You and him had raised some damn smart little devils.

Johnny had snuck into your room tonight, his heart hurting him and his mind understanding. He slipped into your bed and you both shared it one last time as you weakly kissed his pale cheek, him nuzzling his head into yours and muttering a low ‘I love you’.

You had passed not three minutes ago.

As he always had been, Johnny was loathed to leave you waiting for him. So here, with those overhead lights, he lets his eyes dip closed, and he swears that a soft hand brushes his cheek, calling him home.

Outside, the crickets creek, and the stars blink. The wind slips through the curtains of the open window, swaying them in a dance only they know.

Johnny does as he always did before he fell asleep, and it came as easy as letting that final breath go.

“...Thank you.”

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accio-victuuri · 2 months

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(8) cql shoot “fake” moments 📼

i am picking certain contributions in this round up made by 泡沫爱恋的晴空. there are different candies in the linked source but this post i’m making are stuff that supposedly happened during filming. if like me, and stories like this are your weakness, then you will enjoy it. maybe you’ve read some of these before or not — even saw some play out in unofficial bts.

1.) My favorite and i wanted an excuse to add an edited clip of GG singing. 🎵🎶 this may not be the actual scenario described in the fake story but fans are speculating it is.

DD's assistant would also bring DD green tea at first, but later she only brought boiled water because he wouldn't drink it. There was a quarrel between the two, gg held the green tea and drank it by himself, while dd stood by and watched Bichen. GG ignored him. dd said, "I'm thirsty.” The assistant thought that dd would be embarrassed to ask gg for green tea, so she took a cup and gave it to him. dd said it’s not green tea, gg didn’t even look at him, and dd said angrily that I don’t want to drink any more.

It's going to be swollen, and it's very embarrassing with dd's assistant next to me (xql quarrel can't help much) , gg just said that they brought it out to you and you didn’t drink it. DD was so angry that he didn’t say anything.

GG gave him the green tea and asked dd's assistant for a drink from dd's water cup. He was very helpless and said that green tea has a grudge against you. He keeps an eye on Green Tea Balabala every day. dd drank half a cup of green tea in one breath. When gg took it, he was shocked. Web, you are poisonous, you won’t give me some. dd said you drink water, zg you won't be swollen. Then the two of them reconciled inexplicably. After gg was called by the director after the show, dd asked the assistant for water. Even if I drink it, I won’t be afraid of swelling. I don’t know and I don’t dare to ask.

I tried my best to rephrase some of the words for it to make more sense but i hope you all get the gist of it. So it’s all about a quarrel they had and reconciling because of green tea. Do friends even do this kind of shit? lol. No. I’m serious. The way they fight and make up — you would think they are high school sweethearts or something. The video shared points to the time they were fighting and ignoring each other. Look at WYB completely ignoring GG while singing — and how GG was glancing at him, looking at his expression. I always thought this scene was sweet cause GG was singing that beautiful love song, now i’m seeing it in a different way. Still sweet of course, but with some edge to it. 🤍🔪

2.) The two are talking about the pokemon character grumpig, this was used by the OP as a starting point to the story but the main point is as follows: There is really too much "trash talk" between them, it's terrifying, and no one else can get in, they just understand it, and if they talk about it, they probably don't need to cut out the highlights.

LOL. There are bts content that will never see the light of day between these two because it’s either too sweet or too savage 😂😂😂😂

3.) When I was on the set before, Xiao laoshi would occasionally pout. I don’t know, maybe it was a subconscious action when he was relaxed. Then Lao Wang would say that Xiao laoshi is so cute and pout, and he would say it every time as a fake. If Xiao laoshi is tired, he will be ignored. If he is not tired, he will say something back to him.

One time I saw Teacher Xiao pouting and he took advantage of it! I drew an ugly picture, look at the picture:

Like this, do you understand? Anyway, after pouting, you put your fingers under his lips and then move them up.

4.) One day there was a scratch on the back of his hand. He said team member asked if it was scratched by someone. He said it was not, pointing to a shallow mark — and said this was scratched by him before.

If there are really scratches on the back of my hand when it is broadcast, I am confused and I don’t know anything.

*** i think this pertains to scratches in WYB’s arms lol. we think it’s jianguo but it could be from someone else 😂😂😂

5.) This next one are bits shared by an OP who allegedly met the boys for the first time a year ago, and we were extremely busy. Allegedly this OP is someone who worked with them during CQL promotions. They said that they didn’t know anything about internal entertainment: I just felt that one person who came was not worldly, and the other person was electric. Now I sincerely wish to be with you, and always listen to my heart.

• One is reserved and mature, the other is childish.

• The venue is large, the air outlet temperature of the stage is low, and all has thick coats and it’s bitingly cold. He silently took off his coat and forced the other party to put it on. He breathed silently into his hand, held the microphone to warm it, and exchanged words. To use your description, it means there are stars in my eyes.

• There are a few lines that we hum along while waiting for the venue. It was vaguely him who taught him. I just remember that he sang a line, and my fingertips were moved by the feeling of midsummer.

• His hands were turning the pair of rings intentionally or unintentionally, taking them off, putting them on, and taking them off again. I caught a glimpse of him from the corner of my eye. As they passed by, they kissed each other.

• After the curtain call, accompanied by the deafening song and shouting, a faint sound drifted through my ears several times “Life comes and goes again... I'll be by your side”

AHHHHHH THAT’S ALL IM GONNA SAY. No wonder a lot of people who worked during CQL or interacted with them became cpfs. 👀

6.) Because two people sleep together during ttysj, the younger one is more accustomed to it, and is not so scared anymore. Later, the younger one went out to film a drama alone and slept by himself at night. He was a little scared and not used to it, so he asked Brother Zhan to call him and sing "Bao" "Baby", "My precious baby, let me give you some sweets so that you can sleep well tonight." Then the younger one will not be afraid to sleep well.

youtube

this is the song, allegedly, i mean. come on. i wanna fight yibo 😤😤😤 to have xiao zhan sing you to sleep whenever you want to!!!!!

7.) Not necessarily an incident that happened while filming CQL, but during that era in 2018. Most likely from their Bazaar shoot, there is a video of this too, ZZ playing with a dog.

One time when the two of them got together, there was a staff member backstage who brought a puppy to xx and when he was holding the puppy, the puppy licked xx. The person standing next to him looked at the puppy with cold hatred. The staff member was right. Ask xxx, do you want me to lick you too??? No more follow-up, I have other things to do and I'm going out....Don't believe it's fake...

YIBO 😂😂😂😂 I added it here cause it’s so funny! He is even jealous of a puppy!!!! my favorite is how ZZ notices it too, that means he is attuned to WYB’s emotions.

8.) Guizhou has beautiful natural scenery, but the mountain roads are rugged and there are many insects.There are many people. If you want to see the waterfalls during the wet season, you have to hike. After walking for nearly forty minutes with one foot deep and one foot shallow, I happened to hear the sound of water and called out xxx, do you have a wish? When you see the waterfall and you want your wish to come true, close your eyes. It’s fake, don’t believe it.

OP here was talking about what the two of them couldn’t agree on during this interview p1. to those familiar with it, you know what i’m talking about. One was saying there is a waterfall in Guizhou, then the other said there is but they didn’t go. We know that when stuff like this happens, one of them is covering something up. In this case it’s GG.

The fake rumor explains that they did go, WYB asking XZ to close his eyes for a wish was a scheme for him to kiss XZ ( p2 ). He is right tho, if XZ’s wish was WYB, then if he closes his eyes and WYB kisses him— his wish will come true.

I CAN’T. 🥹🥹🥹🥹

WANG YIBO IS SO SMOOTH. 😤😤😤

-END.

#yizhan #bjyx #there is no science here i’m just clowning like i always do #Youtube #the number of fakes is extensive like the link alone is more than 100 lol

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drconstellation · 4 months

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First-Order Archangels

Part 1: Maybe You'll Spot An Archangel

GABRIEL: I told you you could ask. However, I am the only First-Order archangel in the room, or, you know, the Universe, so I'm not gonna answer so much. But you feel free to knock yourself out with all the asking.

While I was writing my meta series The Passion Of Jimbriel it became fairly obvious to me there was something more going on between Crowley and Gabriel in S2 than just the numerous pointers to Crowley's pre-fall angel status. They are acting as both parallels and foils to each other, and in places you can swap their characters and get the same story at a different time – and that just opens up a whole new window of context and insight into things. For pre-reading, see this meta from @vidavalor that nicely lists some obvious parallels. It doesn’t mention everything though, so I’m going to discuss parts in more detail.

A foil is a character who contrasts with the protagonist, to highlight or differentiate certain qualities between the characters. Crowley and Gabriel do this because they have come from essentially the same place, and share some story elements, but they still end up in different places.

There is a lengthy original discussion about Crowley's pre-fall angel status here, for pre-reading. It points out the obvious and some not so obvious points that ops have noticed in S2 telling us about Crowley's pre-fall status. Rather than just go through them all again, I'd like to look at some other scenes in S2 that also tell us something about both the similarities and the differences between these two high-powered entities as I go along. In addition, I’ve done a series of posts looking at Gabriel as a shoulder angel (links at the end of post,) because quite often he’s on the demonic left-hand side – which makes sense when you realize he’s a Crowley parallel.

Take the arrival of Gabriel to Whickber St and the bookshop. I’ve already mentioned this parallel story line a couple of times now, but lets look at it again in more detail. It mirrors the opening of S1E1 where the serpent climbs the wall of the Garden of Eden, morphs into a demon and starts to converse with the angel standing on the wall.

Back in the present day, we have a Gabriel, who also tends to present on the sinister-side, walking up to the gate of the present day Garden (the bookshop), which is still guarded by the same angel as it was 6000 years ago, and basically tells Aziraphale he has “fallen.”

How to we know this? It is a reference to the Fall of Man, when Adam and Eve ate the apple the serpent offered them, they suddenly became aware of their nakedness, and hid from God. Gabriel has already upset the love-apple tomato cart on his way to the door of the bookshop, its a sign of the chaos to come.

The fallen angel is not sure of his name, so he prompts with a question…

And asks for shelter under the (reluctant) angel’s wing..

But there is one thing he does know, the one thing that drew him to Aziraphale in the first place:

AZIRAPHALE: Then why did you come to my shop? GABRIEL: I don't know. I just thought I should. You know what it's like when you- when you don't know anything at all, and yet you're totally certain that everything would be better if you were just near one particular person?

Later, Aziraphale realizes that he must give Gabriel a new name to hide him – because fallen angels take on a new name, don’t they? Just like Crowley did.

Then we get a confession:

Which is what Crowley loves about Aziraphale as well - that bit of unpredictability, because you know how humour kind of works? It throws the unexpected at you.

Early on in S2 we find out they are both in trouble: first His Royal Smugness, then Our Hero himself. Our view is turned upside down, with the angel made the bad guy and the demon the good guy who needs to win. But both of them are being hunted by Shax.

Then we get one of the early clues pointing to Crowley's high status as an angel:

SHAX: A miracle of enormous power happened last night. The kind of miracle only the mightiest of Archangels could've performed. CROWLEY: Mm? SHAX: Somewhere very close to your friend's bookshop. Are you telling me you don't know what caused it? CROWLEY: How'd you know I didn't do it?

Shax stalks and threatens both of them, sometimes at the same time:

Another parallel Gabriel and Crowley shared in S2 were associating their identity - no, lets rephrase that - "essence" was one description I've seen - with boxes.

Gabriel arrives with a box that strategically covers his front, and quickly tosses it aside once Aziraphale opens the door to the bookshop. It lies forgotten until Gabriel mentions it a while later. Inside it is the fly from Beelzebub - an object from Hell - so it really needs to be 'invited' across the threshold of the bookshop by Aziraphale to be able to enter. The box initially appears to be empty, Once inside, the fly is free to roam. It has a message written on one side of it.

The same goes for the matchbox. Message included.

ah, wot? you say. Yep.

The matchbox represents Crowley, probably in more ways than one, but I'll just go through the stuff relevant to this meta here.

I notice I'm not the only op to connect the line from the Book of Job on the side of the matchbox with Crowley. The line is from Verse 41, which talks about Leviathan. Among the various shapes it is described to take is a great sea serpent. This deserves its own meta for further discussion, which I plan to do after this one, because yes, Crowley is Leviathan in disguise, but there is much more to it than that. But for now, just know that the matchbox is Crowley.

Once you know this, it makes sense that Muriel finds it - a discarded cardboard box by the front door to Heaven - and deals with a material object that shouldn't by rights exist in Heaven. Then a certain demon finds Muriel lurking outside during the siege on the bookshop at the end of S2E5, and talks them into letting the certain demon be escorted up into Heaven where he doesn't belong, where he's free to roam around - only he needs a guide because he's not sure where to go. Ah Muriel, you poke the Serpent, he's going to poke you back. Good thing he likes you, and it just was a gentle nudge.

Two empty boxes, two cases of memory-loss. That is what S2 seems to suggest to us at first glance.

Gabriel's seems to be the most straight forward in hindsight - find the fly and restore Gabriel to his original "Gabriel-ness." But its more complicated than that. When pushed to remember, his lilac eyes return and another voice can be heard speaking through him of the past. This happens twice, with the second one being part-prophecy. What is really triggering these episodes of channeling? Is it God or someone else speaking through him? We really aren't sure at this point in time.

Then there are questions around Crowley's memory. Did he have his memory wiped when he fell? Was it wiped repeatedly? Was it not wiped at all, and he just pretends he doesn't remember? Neil has even said he is an unreliable narrator about his own Fall, so who are we to trust at this point? Crowley does seem to understand in the end some of the problems Gabriel is having with his absent memories and that brings them to a temporary truce.

Both Aziraphale and Michael inspect their respective "empty" boxes, and neither notices anything obviously amiss. Gabriel's box just seems empty to Aziraphale, he takes no notice of the fly container in there, and archangel Michael tentatively inspects the matchbox brought to them by Muriel but nothing seems out of place there either.

Crowley's change in costume in Heaven during his little infiltration caper with Muriel is also another clue to his past status as an archangel. He has a silvery-gray suit, similar in style to Saraqael's to reinforce the link with them, but at the same time he is also mocking the other archangels and their elite status. We've assumed for a while now that the appearance of the tactical turtleneck signals that Crowley is up to something sneaky or spy related, but I'm starting to think it also relates to a bit of a power play (and Crowley certainly laid the power on for Mr Brown in the pub!) Looking back at S1, Gabriel's not adverse to wearing one either when he needs to be at his worst (or best. Your choice.)

The way one dresses is a way of expressing and reinforcing authority, and its something both Gabriel and Crowley do without much thought. They have been used to being in a position of power and/or independent authority for much of their existence, and I would say that even if Crowley is a few steps down now from where he started, and he's more cautious around those higher ranking than him than he used to be, he still retains that knowledge of what its like to be at the top.

Crowley's usual near all-black costume is a form of power dressing in itself. Whether is was in the past, when black was an expensive color to buy and maintain in clothing, or in the present day, we are still respectful of those in a stylish cut of black.

Gabriel's impeccable tailoring as Supreme Archangel also commands respect. So it's no wonder that one of Gabriel's first requests on regaining his memories was to ask for new clothes! He wasn't just being the vain archangel we believe him to be (although, I think there is still some of that) you also need to consider the elements of the reference characters that went into his shop assistant character: Granville, the belittled shop assistant nephew from the sitcom Open All Hours, who got stuck with all the shop duties from his uncle and felt like life was passing him by, and the silly Monty Python gumbies, that complained of hurting brains - lovable and much loved characters, but not ones you'd really want to be forever. We all want to be loved, but we want to be respected as well.

For all his fierce posturing around Gabriel, there is a brief moment in S2E3 where Crowley backs down and treats Gabriel as an equal - and that is reflected in a change of dress as well. His outside jacket off and sleeve-garters on, Crowley sports a look we haven't seen since S1 when he was home alone in his Mayfair flat. He patiently explains gravity to a curious Gabriel and then describes his "Operation Lovebirds" plan to his puzzled companion. He admits he hasn't "done weather in ages." It's just a quiet, charming moment, watching two ex-archangels get along together.

You're smiling, aren't you?

This meta continues in Part 2: Foils of War, where the differences between Gabriel and Crowley get explored in more detail, and how Aziraphale and Beelzebub act as mirrors to each other a few times as well.

This meta is part of a series on Gabriel: Gabriel as a Shoulder Angel: S1 Study S2 Study Part 1: Ep.1 The Arrival and Ep. 2 The Clue S2 Study Part 2: Ep.3 I Know Where I'm Going and Ep. 5 The Ball S2 Study Part 3: Ep.6 Every Day

First-Order Archangels Part 2: Foils of War

First-Order Archangels Part 3: Seeing Eye to Eye

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #crowley #gabriel #the only first-order archangel in the room #or you know the universe #aziraphale #garden of eden #fallen angel #his royal smugness #how will our hero cope #maybe you'll spot an archangel #book of job #vavoom

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rachetmath · 7 months

Text

Jaune was working as usual until he heard his scroll. He looks to see Blake calling him. He answers.

Blake: Jaune we need to talk.

Jaune: *putting a baby to sleep while controlling kids* Blake I am a little busy at the moment.

Blake: Jaune we need to discuss why you quit your position.

Jaune: I don’t know maybe because I’m not needed and might as well use my time to get stronger and probably be more useful.

Yang: Jaune come on you were plenty useful in the nursing.

Jaune: Yang they have medical professionals. They were fine without me. Plus I go back there every morning. I never left. I even have them on my scroll. They call me too. So what’s the problem?

Robyn: Look we just need you to start pulling your weight and do your job.

Jaune: *triggered*

Kid #1: Ooo you messed up lady.

Jaune”s teacher 1: Honey you felt that, right?

Jaune’s teacher 2: Mm-hm someone about to get their ass beat. And my son is about to do it.

Jaune’s teacher 1: Honey we already got ten kids.

Jaune’s teacher 2: And I love them but their still children. They don’t know how bad adulthood is yet.

Jaune: Little bi- *remembers the children* You know what how about we have a meeting about this okay?

Robyn: Fine.

The next day everyone gathered around for the meeting with Jaune being in the room first. After everyone finished what they had to say, Jaune presented himself and replied.

Jaune: So, everyone good? Okay, I’ll make this quick. I have been doing my job better than almost all of you. Almost.

Qrow: Jaune what do you mean you have been messing up-

Jaune: I know the man who can change into a bird and is a legend yet still can’t watch over a maiden and his nieces for shit is talking to me.

Qrow: Now hold up son I’ll beat-

Jaune: Bro you are the reason Clover is dead. And the reason Tyrian escaped along with Robinhood over there.

Robyn: Hey.

Jaune: And speaking of you, Ms. Hill, how the hell was Penny defending your city better than you or any of your Happy Huntresses considering the amount of citizens who got hurt?

May: Hey we had to evacuate our citizens cause your team deserted us.

Jaune: Well sorry, it is not like one of my friends wasn’t kidnapped and was about to die at any given moment.

Yang: You could have helped.

Jaune: Bitch you told me not to fight. Hell we almost got him back too. Oh. And we were planning to come back. However, we were captured because I was trying to warn someone of an upcoming attack. Which happened and yet some stubborn mother fuckers wouldn’t listen. Cause they were fixated on looking for Penny.

Winter: Mm he did. But you

Jaune: Yeah-yeah I know, the Ironwood and Ruby bs. And speaking of that wouldn’t James have killed everyone anyway if we hadn’t stopped him?

Qrow: Not to mention Harriet almost dropped a whole bomb on Mantle to kill everyone.

Harriet: Okay rude.

Yang: Okay Jaune-

Jaune: Bitch don’t get me- don’t get me started on you. You have been getting your ass beat as of late. Like in Atlas and Mantle, I don't know how that’s possible, but me and my men, have been carrying you throughout the whole ordeal. All you have been doing was not knowing how to shut the hell up.

Yang: um…

Jaune: Like you was talking about the Ace-ops and Winter following orders yet you were following Ozpin’s,Ruby’s, Ironwood's and better yet, you were following my orders. At least I was coming up with a plan. I was helping Ren. Being a leader. What were you doing other than Blake?

Blake: Alright Jaune, calm down, You have made your point.

Jaune: Oh no the fuck I haven't. Are you Ruby's sister?

Blake: No.

Jaune: Mm I wonder what drew me to that conclusion considering you have been acting like her sister more than a blond brawler over here? Both moms left her too, yet she looked for the one who never raised her.

Yang: *tears dropping from her eyes*

Nora: Wow Jaune, that's cold.

Jaune: Nora. Ren. My supposedly two remaining teammates.

Ren: Come on not again. Jaune, Ruby already told us everything. What can you possibly say that she hasn't told us yet?

Jaune: For someone who was on James's dick you never once tried to snitch on us. In fact you been kinda rude half the time.Then you decided to speak out against Harriet like you and Yang didn't argue before we got caught.

Ren: That was because she was insulting Pyrrha.

Jaune: Which I understand but I thought we were past that already.

Ren: Well I was the reason Winter agreed to your plan. And I was the reason we survived the whale to find Oscar.

Jaune: Emerald and Hazel saved Oscar before we had a chance. We basically went in there for nothing. And you almost started a fight with Harriet.

Winter: Also I was a little hesitant but I agreed to the plan. Mainly more hostages. You wouldn’t be alive if I hadn’t jumped in.

Jaune: More importantly if I were to have thrown the relic into the mix, which had one question left by the way, you're telling me Harriet wouldn't agree to let us go. Mainly because they were looking for Penny regardless.

Nora: Wow Jaune you would thrown Penny under the bus that easily?

Jaune: If it meant a negotiation with James, probably, yes. And Nora, weren't you unconscious throughout half that experience?

Nora: I saved team RWBY.

Jaune: Who hasn't? Cause I recall, Qrow, Oobleck, Gylanda, us, CVFY, Ace-ops, James, and Ozpin. You ain’t special.

Oscar: Damn.

Jaune: Oscar you decided to meet James and try to talk. After he made us wanted criminals. What were you thinking?

Oscar: At least I tried to reassure him.

Jaune: And you got shot. Mother fucker you were wasting time and our efforts. Next time no one might not be able to help you. And Ozpin? It took a whole pile of shit to happen for you to finally came out and help?

Oscar(Ozpin): Mr. Arc it was not that bad.

Jaune: He got shot. Manhandled by a Grimm. And beat up by an old man. Come on.

Ozpin: … …

Jaune: Don’t get me started on how you fucked up years before.

Pietro: Jaune. You killed my-

Jaune: I killed Penny and saved Winter. Winter was Ironwood's second in command and was in charge of a whole army during a full-scale invasion. The fact Penny had Weiss, Ruby, Blake, Yang, and Nora to choose from proves she knew all of them weren't up to the task. Plus I was trying to help her but my options were limited. I did what I had to. I’m sorry.

Pietro: You could have-

Jaune: Healed her? I TRIED!!! However let's discuss how I have been carrying every damn body on my back. I had to help Ren multiple times when using his semblance. I had to heal Oscar. Heal Nora. Amplify Weiss and Penny when it came to her virus. Hell fourth wall breaking did anyone think for a second I amplified Ren ahead of time so he can mask those same thousands of people.

RWBY fan: …. ….

Jaune: All that while running, fighting and surviving while having barely enough sleep or energy. Hell, my aura kept breaking multiple times. I am surprised I haven't passed out yet.

Winter: Mm he made his point.

Weiss: Winter, why are you siding with him so quickly?

Winter: First off I am alive because of him. Second, Weiss, you lied to my face. Like I was open with you and you never once came to me with the truth. I'm your sister. You're lucky I was willing to side with you at all.

Jaune: Facts. And for someone who lived in Atlas, you barely did shit to save it.

Weiss: I sent ships to help Mantle.

Winter: That's the thing though Mantle. You did nothing for Atlas at all. And how did you send those ships?

Weiss: Well it was mainly Whitley.

Winter: I rest my case.

Jaune: Also aren't you Ruby’s partner? Why are Oscar, Blake, and myself filling in those shoes more than you?

Yang: Well in the Ever After you-

Jaune: I was trying to find a way home by learning the story. But as the saying goes, “Don’t trust everything you read.” And sorry for protecting a civilization from killing itself even though that was the only thing keeping me sane.

Yang: *silent*

Blake: They came back though.

Jaune: They don’t remember me or their past lives. They died and came back only to die again. Not to mention I had to leave my second and long-time companion and place her in the care of a rat. Not only that I had a whole map of the Ever After. I wasn't playing around. I was seriously trying to find a way home. Yet you called me crazy.

Blake: *silent*

Jaune: Here is what I am saying, true enough I can't fight for anything but I at least help in areas none of you can seem to grasp. I have to sacrifice my mental and physical well-being to support ya’ll. I have been doing my job as a huntsman, teammate and a friend than almost any of you.

Nora: But Jaune you’re our leader we need you.

Jaune: I recall the majority of times you two barely follow my orders. Ruby is your leader. I don’t recall having a team move with either of you. Not just that you have Oscar and Emerald so fuck both of you.

Ren: Are we that bad of a team?

Jaune: Yeah, and what’s crazier is I have a family I haven’t seen in years yet I’m still prioritizing a city full of savages, and you all as my friends when I can just pull a Raven and leave you be.

Yang: DUDE!!

Jaune: I’m just saying I could leave and nothing would change. Now I’m leaving cause I got a job to do!*leave*

Qrow: Well damn.

Nora: I guess we all made mistakes.

Ren: Yes.

Weiss: I’m going to call Ruby and see if we can hang out.

Yang: Can we make that a double?

Oscar: Um Nora do you think-

Nora: Calm down Oscar. Jaune may be upset but he’ll be fine. He wouldn’t leave us like that.

A few weeks later.

Ruby: Hey everyone we’re back.

Team RWBY saw a crying Nora in Ren’s arms and defeated Qrow comforted by Oscar. Ruby looks to see a letter and picks it up. Ruby and her team read the letter. Afterward, Yang is shocked, and Weiss is sad as Blake comforts them. Ruby on the other hand steps out and then stares at the sky. A tear flows down her eye.

Ruby: Well, at least you have the common decency to tell me what you’re up to. But still…*sigh* Hope you find what you're looking for my friend. And… … Please… come back safely.

Jaune was flying on a Nevermore along with Emerald who snuck aboard to his surprise. Jaune, though irritated, continued flying as she held onto him.

Emerald: I can’t believe you tamed a Nevermore.

Jaune: Yeah-yeah anyways why did you follow me here?

Emerald: Hey someone has to watch your back.

Jaune: You are the last person I want to cover my back.

Emerald: Well don’t be rude. But also…

Jaune: What?

Emerald: Jaune… Salem is after you.

Jaune: Really? Why? I don’t recall being a silver-eyed warrior or Ozpin’s vessel. So why me? Also, how do you know?

Emerald: Mercury told me and even he doesn’t know. He just overheard Tyrian about you.

Jaune: I fought with him a week ago. (Should’ve killed him too.) Still doesn’t make sense though. Did he hear anything from Cinder?

Emerald: No.

Jaune: Look I already left the kingdom. Cinder mainly wants Ruby dead. And Salem will be too preoccupied to do anything about me. We’re under clear.

Somewhere in Vacuo, Tyrian and Mercury were speaking to Salem and Cinder through one of her sphere Grimm. Salem hears Jaune has left the kingdom of Vacuo and is enraged.

Salem: WHAT?!

Tyrian: I’m sorry mistress. Please calm down.

Salem: *breaths* Very well. Cinder will meet you both in Vacuo. Therefore we will split our efforts into two. You three along with our allies will search and kill the Summer Maiden along with team RWBY and their annoying friends. I will send a request to half of them to assist me in finding him. I may even need them.

Tyrian: Them ma’am?

Salem: Yes, them.

Tyrian: Very well my queen. We will not fail you.

Salem ends the call while Cinder stands before her with an angered look in her eye.

Salem: What is it, my dear?

Cinder: Why are you after Jaune?

Salem: Why do you ask?

Cinder Ma’am, I don’t mean to be rude but that boy isn’t worth our efforts at all.

Salem: Hm… really? So how come he’s alive?

Cinder: By sheer luck of course.

Salem: True. However, there is no doubt he has gotten in the way of our plans. Like with killing the Schnee girl. Or getting the winter maiden’s power.

Cinder: *nervous* Those were my failures, ma’am.

Salem: Regardless I need him alive.

Cinder: But why though.

Salem: His semblance and aura. With his semblance along with Gillian's, I might be able to push our army further to evolution. But I need his power to do it.

Cinder: Then allow me to-

Salem: *snaps*

Cinder was shut off as she could feel pain from her Grimm arm. Salem turns around and looks to Cinder and say as she closes in on her.

Salem: I recall sending you to handle said children and what happened? Oh. You costed me knowledge. You lost the maiden powers to another huntress. Hazel and Emerald betrayed us. And worse of all you lost two useful people.

Cinder: But I gave you creation. Surly that makes up- *feels greater pain*

Salem; Ever since you came back you have been getting cocky and more foolish by the day. Draining my resources. Right now, all I want from you to do is simply play nice and follow orders. Like a good little doll.

Cinder was terrified as she stared at Salem’s as she leaned down to look closer at Cinder’s frightened gaze.

Salem: Understand this Cinder. I was the reason you managed to obtain and control that power you have in your possession. However, you so far have continued to prove how undeserving you are of said power and responsibility that comes with it. So let me break this down for you. If you so much as make a mistake, further disrupt my plans, or worse fail me…

Cinder: … ….

Salem: I will take everything from you. Do you understand child?

Cinder: Yes m- *screams* Yes… my queen.

Salem: Good. Now leave.

Cinder gets up and leaves for Vacuo. Salem on the other hand walks around her castle until she reaches her destination. There she opens a huge door. She walks through the door only to be greeted by multiple eyes.

Salem: Hello my children.

???: Greetings Mother.

Salem: Mother is sorry. I wish I didn’t have to send you to do this. But there is no one but you that I trust to do this task

???: Anything Mother.

Salem uses her Grimm to present an image of the target.

Salem: Find this boy. Do however you feel it takes to bring him back alive.

???: May we have fun hunting him Mother.

Salem: *smile* Of course, my children. You may torture him and do as you see fit.

???: Yes mother. It shall be done.

Salem: Then go.

#rwby #jaune arc #ruby rose #weiss schnee #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #nora valkyrie #lie ren #qrow branwen #penny polendina #raven branwen #pietro polendina #winter schnee #james ironwood #ace ops

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ibee00725 · 10 months

Note

HEYYYY SO I SAW YOUR REQS WERE OPEN……. i hope you don’t mind me being hella biased but 😔😔 could I maybe have a little doodle of ace and a hibiscus……. I LOVE YOYR ART AND HOW YOU DRAW HIM SO MUCH. AND ALL THE CHARACTERS IN GEN YOUR ARG JD SO STUNNIBG OP FROM ONE ATTIST TO ANOTHEF!!!!!!! WWWWWWWWW 🫶🫶🫶🫶

TY!! Glad u enjoy my works 😔💕🤲

Anyways, hibiscus flowers remind me of the beach so I drew ace in a beachy fit 🙈

#twisted wonderland #twst fanart #twst #twisted wonderland fanart #twst art #heartslabyul #ace trappola fanart #twisted wonderland ace #twst ace #ace trappola #ace trappola twst #my art lmao #twst heartslabyul #tumblr asks #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland

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colealexart · 6 months

Note

Can you tell us the story of you meeting Ashley and Sam?

sure!

we waited in ashley's queue after seeing laura but it was taking a while and they had to leave for lunch, then photo ops. when we did see her, we had been in the queue for a while because she likes to spend time with people, so the nerves that i was feeling at the beginning kind of dissipated. i was still super nervous to meet her, because she's ashley johnson, but my back and legs were hurting from standing in the queue for so long, so that kind of took my mind off of it a little.

my friend went before me in the queue and got my fearne print signed by her, and i was getting the same print signed too. so when it was my turn, she was like "ohh, that person had this print too" and i was like "yeah i drew it" and she looked so shocked(?) lmao. she was like "you did?! oh my god, it's beautiful!"

i mentioned how much i loved ellie and how much the last of us means to me, and she looked so touched. she stopped signing for a moment to listen to me, with the softest smile on her face. she is very good at keeping you in conversation, so much so that i completely forgot to gift her the extra fearne print that i brought for her.

i did give her the dice that i brought for her though, and she looked so excited. i started saying “i’m sure you receive so many dice but-“ and before i could finish, she interrupted me and said "NO, LAURA GETS ALL THE DICE!" which i thought was hilarious. we played rollies and i got a nat 1 and she got a 4. i also got to hear the signature ashley johnson quote “its caaacked” in person because my dice was slightly tilted off the paper.

i also completely forgot to ask for a selfie, because... well. she's ashley johnson. i was lowkey ascending into another dimension.

as for sam, i had met him before a couple times, during our group and single photo op, but for the autograph he came immediately after ashley. during our photo op, i wore the cursed sam mask that was given out during the live show prank, and he laughed and called it horrifying. i didn't realize, but during our photo he was pulling a face at me because i wore the mask, and it makes me laugh every time. (also, as we were waiting, he introduced himself to every single person taking a photo with him, which i find very funny. sir, we are literally here for you. we paid for this.)

for the sam autograph, on all the other tables i went to, they had you talk to someone beforehand to tell them your name and any autograph personalizations you wanted, so they could write it down on a post-it to make it easier for the talent. however, with sam's, it was a little different. the person helping him out asked for my name, and instead of writing it down he personally introduced me to sam himself. it immediately relaxed me, for some reason. it didn't feel like i was meeting a celebrity (even though i had already met him briefly during the photo ops.) he shook my hand and said, jokingly, "wow, i've never seen this before" about my fcg print. (i had tweeted at him a couple months ago with the print i was going to get signed at mcm, and he responded "cant wait".)

we made conversation about the live show. sam is very soft-spoken irl. he took his time with my autograph and we chatted about the flat white with vanilla please prank on marisha. he said it's very fun to bully her lol. he then took a second to look at the fcg print, and said that it's really cool and he loves the design. i had a spare in my bag, so i offered it to him. he said "oh, i don't want to take it from you, so only if you're sure" which was just. the sweetest. i gave him the print and he was very gracious and shook my hand again.

sorry, this got long lol. i had so much fun meeting them and they truly made everyone feel so welcome and loved. i could talk about my experience at mcm and the live show until the end of time.

#ask

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lale-txt · 7 months

Text

❦ 𝐀𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒

Every time he lowers his eyes, a strict ‘tsk, tsk’ of yours reminds him to keep looking at you as he obediently follows your instructions, always so eager to please.

a/n: one of my fics for @op-xreader-zine ♡ i don't write Katakuri often but when i do, he gets pegged. you can see the spot art Mew drew for this on AO3 (i didn't embed it here since i'm not sure what the current rules for explicit drawings on Tumblr currently are oop but click on the link for a treat)

contains: ns.fw under the cut, Katakuri/Reader, afab!reader (no pronouns or descriptive words for reader’s genitals used), pegging, praise kink, dirty talk, fingering (reader receiving and giving), size kink, spanking

word count: 2.2k

“Mmm.”

You let out a content sigh as you sink into the bathwater and right into your boyfriend's arms. Instantly, he wraps them around you and pulls your body closer to his. There’s been this heat between the two of you ever since Katakuri suggested staying in tonight and having a bath together instead of going out. He’s never been one to enjoy the company of many people anyway, preferring to spend his shared solitude with you instead.

One hand of his is big enough to wrap around your torso fully, holding you in a tight but not painful grip. Even if you tried, you could never wiggle out of it. Not that you wanted to—you loved when he held you like that. The sheer size of him made you feel safe and sparked a fire within your core.

Tonight isn’t any different.

“Sweet little thing… you’re squirming.”

Katakuri’s voice is low in your ear, his hot breath fanning over your skin and making you tremble slightly. It doesn't go unnoticed by him with the way you arch your back and rub your thighs together, desperate for some kind of friction. How your heartbeat speeds up a little when he presses his fingertips deeper into your soft flesh. Your habit of biting your bottom lip when you want to hold back your needy mewls. For him your body speaks a language of its own and Katakuri understands every syllable of it.

He rests his chin on top of your shoulder after dragging messy kisses along the side of your neck while his free hand spreads your legs under water with ease, hooking them over his knees to keep them wide open for him.

“So good for me,” he whispers and trails a finger along your slit, almost making you jump in his embrace if it wasn’t for his firm grip holding you in place. His touch is never rough, always gentle; he's well aware of his size and never wants to hurt you. But oh, could he lose himself in the way you whine and moan when he pushes one finger inside your hot core, followed quickly by a second. And when you beg for a third as your walls already twitch around him, Katakuri can’t help but grant your wish, stuffing you until your head falls back on his shoulder and you let out the sweetest sounds of pleasure.

It doesn’t take long for you to cum around his fingers, your walls fluttering them as if they never want to let him go. Katakuri keeps on pressing kisses to your jaw and the side of your neck before he removes his fingers carefully, holding you against his body as you come down from your high. You feel his gaze lingering on you, and you tilt your head up to meet his warm, crimson eyes. Every tiny wrinkle around them you know by heart, having lovingly traced them countless times with your fingertips.

Katakuri reaches for your hand and brings it to his lips, placing another soft kiss on the back of it. You hum gently and turn around in the tub so you could face him directly without cranking your neck—and maybe also because you want to take in the sight of his throbbing cock that has been pressing against your back the whole time.

“How can I make you feel good tonight?” you ask, your voice dripping with hunger as your fingertips run up the inside of his thigh, making them tremble a little. You love how sensitive he is, the slightest touch enough to turn him on. Your eyes rest on him, waiting for him to reply.

There are a few seconds of silence between the two of you–not the uncomfortable kind, the good kind–before Katakuri speaks again, his voice low and making your heart skip a beat.

“There’s something I’ve never tried before… if you’re up for it.”

It's a sight to behold.

Katakuri, leaning against the headboard of the bed, his breath hot and heavy as he keeps fisting his throbbing cock under your stern gaze. Every time he lowers his eyes, a strict ‘tsk, tsk’ of yours reminds him to keep looking at you as he obediently follows your instructions, always so eager to please.

“Spread your legs for me,” you demand as you sit opposite of him at the other end of the bed, lazily stroking the strap-on around your hips, all lubed up already. You smirk when your man does as you tell him and bends his knees further, pushing his legs apart to grant you a better view of just how deeply he desires you.

Two fingers are pushing deeply past his puckered hole, and they glide in and out of it slowly.

“Good boy,” you say in a low voice, eyes wandering from his flustered expression to his throbbing cock, a few drops of precum leaking from it as he continues stroking himself for you, his rhythm getting slightly faster whenever you praise him in a sultry voice.

“Gorgeous… Does it feel good, touching yourself like that?” you ask as you watch him add a third finger, stretching his hole further for you. Katakuri nods, his breath a bit ragged by now and a thin sheen of sweat covering his massive chest. “You wish it was my cock, filling you up…?”

He nods again and you can tell that he is close from the way his fingers clench tighter around his cock, how his thumb circles the tip of it, and how his hips jerk forward slightly as he silently begs you with his eyes to cum. You muster him up and down as his whole body shivers slightly, then you smile and grant him his wish.

“Cum for me… let me hear how good it feels…” you whisper, though your voice leaves no room for disobedience. Usually never one to be overly vocal, Katakuri cums with a whimper, fingers still gliding in and out of his stretched hole as his load lands on his stomach, leaving a sticky trail all the way down his abs to this still throbbing cock.

You don’t leave him any time to breathe.

“On all fours,” you command. “Bend over and spread your cheeks for me, can you do that?”

Seeing Katakuri this obedient, this aroused, it stirs something inside of you. When he told you earlier about his curiosity about pegging, having never tried it before, you were curious too, trying to imagine what he’d look like when he was at your mercy.

It is a sight forever burned into your memory.

His whole body is trembling, face pressed into the pillows and a blissful and fucked out expression, all the while his fingers slide in and out of his stretched hole for your eyes only… it makes you fall all over for him, the trust between the two of you only growing. You lean over him and trail kisses down his spine, mumbling words of adoration against his hot skin, making him whine quietly.

“So good for me,” you coo as your hands cup his ass cheeks, spreading them wider for a better view which has Katakuri moaning, muffled by the pillows. “Shh. Hold still–”

The sound of the bottle of lube clicking open is followed by soft pants from Katakuri when you pour the cold gel where his fingers were moments before, now replaced by two of yours, rubbing slow circles around his twitching hole. You watch your digits disappear inside of it, his ring of muscles clenching around them as you push them in and out slowly, eliciting the sweetest sounds eliciting the sweetest sounds Katakuri's throat has to offer.

“One more,” he mumbles in the pillows, his knuckles turning white when he grips the bed sheets as you add another finger, taking your time to make sure he’ll be able to take your strap with ease. With your free hand you land a sharp slap on his ass cheek, quickly followed by one on the other. His moans are getting deeper now, more needy, which makes your whole body tingle in return.

“Think you can take me…?” you ask, your own heart also beating faster at the sight beneath you. When Katakuri nods, you can’t help but smile and curl your fingers slightly against the sensitive spot inside of him, having him on the edge the whole time before you leave him empty and whining, though if only for just a few moments.

You add a generous amount of lube as you stroke the strap in your fist again, then line yourself up against him with the tip of your fake cock rubbing between his spread cheeks teasingly.

“We can stop anytime, okay?” you whisper, waiting for Katakuri to give you a sign to show that he was good to continue, before you nudge your strap against his entrance. All your gentle preparations from earlier is paid off when you see how easily he swallows you as you push in slowly.

“Sucking me in so greedily.” You smirk as you grab him by his hips, gently guiding him deeper down on your strap. “Feels good…?”

Katakuri breathes heavily as he almost loses himself in this new sensation. All words are lost with every inch you push in deeper, having him mewl and growl under your constant praise as you stretch him so deliciously. He looks so unfairly pretty like this. Part of you wants to ruin him, wants to hear him beg and cry as you fuck him into the mattress, until his eyes roll to the back of his head; another part wants to take this so painfully slow that he just cums untouched, cums without a single finger of yours wrapping around his cock to help him get off, cums from your lazy thrusts that hit his sweet spot inside so well.

Then you’re all the way inside, your hips grinding against him, your fingertips leaving faint red marks where you hold him in place as Katakuri’s whole body trembles. His heavy pants bounce off the walls of your bedroom and send warm shivers throughout your whole body. You’ve never seen him like this and you can’t get enough of the sweet sounds you’re eliciting from him.

You lean forward, a hand of yours finding his hair and gently tugging on it as you kiss down from the side of his neck to his shoulder blades, mumbling soft words of praise and affection against his sweaty skin. From the way Katakuri arches his back for you, rocking his hips back and forth slightly, you can tell that he wants more and you can’t help but laugh softly.

Still bottomed out all the way inside, you kiss his broad back a few more times before your hands wander to his sides, then all the way around his stomach until they find his throbbing and neglected cock. Your fingers of one hand wrap around it, the other around his balls; both are heavy and pulsating in your tight grip, begging for sweet release.

“You poor thing,” you coo. “Have you been holding back? Does my cock make you feel this good? Look at you, so pretty for me…”

Katakuri mewls when you give his cock a few lazy strokes, too light to get him off, yet the feeling of being so full of you is so intense it almost has him seeing stars. By now he is drooling and whimpering, the feeling of pleasure almost too much to handle, his curiosity more than satisfied.

“Will you be good and cum for me?” you whisper as you slowly start thrusting again, almost mesmerized by the way his hole stretches around your strap on. If you could, you’d watch this for hours. Your fingers wrap his cock harder, feeling it twitch underneath your touch when you rub your thumb over the pink tip.

Katakuri is a mess by now, his moans caught in his throat as he begs you to go faster, sweet pleads to let him cum. And you do—

One last thrust is all it takes to push him over the edge. You feel his whole body shake beneath you when he cums, making a mess of the sheets and everything else. His load trickles from your fingers down to your wrist as you keep milking him, lazy strokes that have him whimpering from overstimulation until you finally release him from your grip. You pull out your cock slowly, watching how his hole clenches around nothing before he slumps down on the sheets, followed by you right next to him.

He has his eyes closed in pure bliss when you brush a few strands of his crimson hair out of his face before leaning down to kiss him gently. For the moment no words are needed between the two of you, the air still radiant with the trust and love the two of you hold for each other. One arm of his comes to wrap around your waist and pulls you closer to him, so close you can feel his heart beat erratically in his chest, every drum an echo of your name.

#one piece x reader #one piece x you #katakuri x reader #katakuri x you #charlotte katakuri #one piece x y/n #one piece scenario #one piece reader insert #one piece imagine

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privateanxieties · 10 months

Text

Stay?

In honor of our fallen comrade AO3, here's a 3.1K Frank Castle fic.

Summary: Frank is forced to call in a favor from an old acquaintance he hasn't seen since his second tour. What he gets is more than he bargained for, and for the first time in his life, he doesn't think that's such a bad thing.

Pair: Frank Castle x Reader (she/her); flirting, banter, Frank Castle needs a hug, fluff, NO sMut SorRy

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He shouldn't fucking be here, especially at sundown. That much was clear based on the telltale signs of trepidation in his hands and chest. No, he wasn't shaking. Frank Castle was not a pussy. But, he also was not certain she wouldn't shoot him on sight — or even through the wooden door.

Damn Curtis for being bedridden.

"Can't cover your six this time, Frank," he'd said on the end of a cough. "But I know someone who can."

Yeah. Frank knew too. He knew exactly what her skillset was and why it earned her the name full metal cunt less than four months into her first tour. He didn't particularly approve of the moniker, despite agreeing with the underlying meaning. The guys that bestowed it upon her were jackasses, but even they'd had to yield some quiet respect in the face of facts. That's what one got for being the best damn sniper of all active battalions at that time.

Frank hadn't seen her since before Kandahar. Curtis had been cagey on the details, but if his own memory served, she'd been pulled from the ranks and reassigned too — on the other side of the world. Covert ops were a dime a dozen in those days. Last Frank heard from her, they were supposed to—

The door flew open with a quiet click. Whether the click had come from the lock or his brain, he wasn't sure. She stood in front of him like a one-two punch on legs.

"You know, the rain check for that beer expired a while ago, Castle."

Maybe he was about to expire, if he kept staring at the exposed skin of her shoulder where the black silk robe had slid off. It didn't leave a whole lot to mystery, and it worked wonders to reveal just how little of a threat she considered him. He couldn't imagine she'd have answered the door in that get-up if she expected company of a hostile nature. He cleared his throat and stood the slightest bit taller.

"That's what the flowers are for, sweetheart," he grumbled out at last, gripping the bouquet tighter and shifting subtly on his feet. Her eyes narrowed.

"Something making you nervous?"

Not subtle enough, apparently.

"Hoyle call?" he asked, deflecting her question.

"Of course he called. You'd be dead if he hadn't," she shot back plainly. The tilt of her neck drew his eyes to the damp skin for a brief moment. Freshly showered. Faint jasmine in the air.

"C'mon… I'm not that scary. Am I?" he joked, lips pulling at the edges.

"Scary? No," her voice sang ever-so-gently. She was scanning him from head to toe. "But, given that everyone you've paid a house visit to lately has wound up full of holes, the working policy ought to have been on sight."

"Not if you ain't involved in anything unsavory."

"I have a pile of catshit that needs cleaning. That unsavory enough?" she asked, right eyebrow raised delicately.

Sometimes — and he would deny it even under torture — Frank loved having his balls busted by someone as quick-witted as her. Where Lieberman nagged and sassed him without much success, she was right on target every time. He liked a challenge.

"Didn't peg you for a cat lover," he forwarded, fighting back a smirk.

A flicker of emotion came and went, but Frank thought he caught just the right amount of smugness in the second it passed over her face. She looked pleased, like his assessment of her character was correct. A moment later she was stepping back, gesturing for him to come inside and accepting the flowers with both her hands. If he'd splurged for the largest bouquet, it was in accordance with the favor he was about to ask.

"It's not my cat. If it was, I wouldn't have named it something as stupid as Chonks," she explained as he followed her down the hallway and into the living room of her surprisingly spacious apartment. The furnishings were nothing fancy, at least not in Frank's view, but the sheer square footage did catch his attention.

"Rent dry you out every month, Corporal?"

It wasn't his place to ask, and he didn't really give a shit, but he did want to rattle her chain. Just a little bit. Questioning her choice of rentals and calling her by rank was a good enough start. He watched her retrieve a vase from the open floor kitchen and fill it with water to the midpoint.

"Not that it's any of your business, but no. I'm doing alright for myself. Though, I don't blame you for being suspicious, what with…" she paused, waving her hand in a vague motion. "…everything."

Frank's jaw tightened. She noticed the moment it happened.

"I meant Kandahar. You can unclench your asshole," she commented lightly, arranging the flowers to her liking and leaning forward to breathe in the scent of the gardenias.

"Heard about Wolf and Rawlins. You're right to wonder where I get my money. Not like jobs for trained killers grow on trees. No one's hiring me as a marketing executive. That master's degree was a waste of time," she said as she pulled two glass bottles out of the fridge. Beer and cider.

"Still think beer tastes like piss, do ya?" Frank taunted, though he had to admit — his asshole did unclench after her acknowledgement of recent events. He wasn't sure how he felt about her knowing, but in the end, he'd rather not have to explain the last year of his life. It was fine.

She glanced his way between popping the metal caps open.

"Yep. Worse, even."

He held her gaze.

"Got a boyfriend?"

The inkling of a sardonic smile on her lips had Frank's own trembling with mirth.

"I'm as fond of those as I am of Chonks."

"Why do you stock it, then?" he pushed. It earned him a lovely eye roll.

"I don't know, Frank. Maybe I have friends over sometimes," she sassed, walking up to him. She stopped short of handing him the drink. He measured her resolve just like he measured everything else in life. He was pleased to find that for once, things were exactly as he thought them to be. With her, what he saw was what he got.

"Bullshit," he smirked, finally allowing his amusement out in the open.

A click of her tongue and hooded eyes had his whole posture relaxing.

"Yeah, well… not like you would judge."

Sharing a brief chuckle, they touched the lips of their bottles together with a quiet clink and drank. He abstained from giving in to the urge to compete and drink more than her. Sometimes Frank could choose not to be an ass, but only for the right people.

He took her in as she led him over to the couch, or rather, took in the long-healed scar on the back of her neck, covered just so by a few wisps of hair that had fallen from her up-do. He remembered that one. A shit story, if he ever heard one. It seemed they both knew a thing or two about a comrade's betrayal. What was it with these pieces of shit not having the nerve to stab you in the front?

"I'd try my hand at small talk, if I didn't know you're not one for chit-chat," she said, plopping down on the velvet sofa. He followed shortly. "Plus, Curtis sounded like death warmed over on the phone. So, I'm assuming you needed his help with something and he couldn't provide it. And now you're here."

"Brilliant deduction skills there, Holmes," he grumbled, taking another sip of the beer.

She blinked her eyes at him all innocent.

"I remember your standards being a little higher. Hoyle's a knockout corpsman but I wouldn't trust him to hit a sitting target 300 yards out," she snorted, setting her drink down on the coffee table before them.

"Oh yeah? And what's your best number, champ?" he mocked.

"A few more than that," she shot back instantly, tone flat.

Yeah. Frank knew. He remarked that she hadn't taken on a bragging habit, but she did keep her confidence, which was refreshing. Some pricks came back from warzones feeling like they could conquer the world. Most were soon disabused of the notion. She'd never seemed the type to have a chip on her shoulder, even back then. Even if — and Frank understood better than anyone — she had good reason to return from war loosely hinged and embittered.

He looked her over once more, a deep sigh sagging his shoulders before his expression hardened. She looked back with what seemed to Frank like thinly veiled insight. Eyes like a hawk.

"Not a lot of people I can trust these days, no matter how good a shot they are. Actually, the better they are, the more I don't like 'em."

Her lips pulled back to reveal a few pearly whites.

"Should I take the insufferable route and say well, then you should really hate me?" she joked, smile widening when he snorted and rolled his eyes in exaggerated fashion.

"Don't get ahead of yourself, princess. When's the last time you were behind the scope?" he taunted, wanting to see what she'd do.

"Couple weeks ago, when I scheduled an impromptu leadership change for the Yakuza. You?"

A double take. He rarely did them these days. His amusement was rapidly fading.

"What, you're a gun for hire now?"

Maybe his tone wasn't exactly as even as it should've been, given his reason for being there. Antagonizing someone you're about to ask a favor from was rarely a good strategy. He knew why his words came out the way they did. Maybe he'd expected different from her. Yet, it seemed that his smartass comment didn't provoke much ire. It was her turn to hold his gaze, and she looked decidedly unimpressed.

"Yup. And next week I'll probably be hired to kill the guy who hired me to kill that guy. They're eating each other whether I help or not. Why shouldn't I take their money before they expire of a different cause?" she explained, and Frank didn't really like how he felt it was too simple a reason for what she did.

"As interested as I am in discussing the intricacies of my killing-scumbags-for-fun-and-profit ideology, this is actually my day off. You pulled me out of a bubble bath and I still have gunpowder under my nails. So, if you're going to ask something, either ask or—"

A prolonged, sorrowful meow hijacked their conversation from down the hall, though one could hardly tell for how loud it actually was. She looked over his shoulder to appraise the situation, and just as Frank craned his neck to look too, there it was. A black hole with eyes and pointy teeth stared them both down, tail swinging from side to side leisurely. It meowed again, seemingly just as dejected.

"Three minutes past her dinner. Heartbreaking," she deadpanned.

Frank stifled a snort into the back of his hand.

"Do you want to feed her, Castle? Because I'm inclined to ask you to clean her litter box, too. Since you find this amusing and all."

"Nah. Imma watch you do it, though," he smirked, laughing again when she got up at a glacial pace and headed towards the kitchen with all the enthusiasm of a shift worker at four a.m. He quickly swiped the ten-pound creature off the floor with one arm before it could follow after her. Surprisingly, it didn't try to bite or claw his face off.

"Tell you what— I'll take Chonks off your hands for a minute. Don't want her jumping you for food."

"Oh no. That's never happened before." Laced with sarcasm, her words brought forward a mental picture he found himself thoroughly enjoying.

"Yeah? So Chonks is a little rascal, huh? Does Chonks have a particular strategy she ambushes you with?"

"I have a feeling you just like saying Chonks, so let me stop you before it gets annoying. She," Her index finger pointed straight at Frank's chest, where the cat rested amicably. "… is a criminal. Unrepenting. Extravagant. She flaunts her ill-gotten gains. She took a shit in the sink last week and she left a mouse on my pillow two days ago. It was still twitching."

Frank Castle hadn't had a good laugh in what felt like forever. Truthfully, he didn't really think he deserved much of what regular people took for granted. There were reasons for that everywhere he looked, no matter how much people like David Lieberman and Karen Page tried to persuade him otherwise. But sometimes… sometimes there were also moments like this. Maybe it was camaraderie, maybe mutual understanding — even, perhaps, a similar disposition to the person whose company he found himself not dreading. Whatever fate or circumstance settled on, and as much as he wanted to doubt it, these moments were getting more frequent as of late. Nothing crazy — he would never be a happy-go-lucky guy just minding his business. But somewhere between the cracks in a life he was still trying to make sense of, people slipped in substances he was having a hard time getting rid of. Laughter. Support. A little ball-busting that was good for morale. Help.

He'd turned up at her door with the clear intention for ask for help, and she didn't turn him down. She invited him inside, despite not having seen him in years. Despite the news and his reputation. Despite not owing him a goddamn thing.

He startled when a gentle vibration tickled his abdomen. He looked down. Chonks lay half-asleep, head on Frank's stomach and ass hanging off the side of his thigh. He tried adjusting for comfort without disturbing the creature.

"Ever been taken prisoner, Frank?" his host asked from the kitchen. He had to twist his neck to catch her eye.

"Not unwillingly," was the answer he settled on.

"Well, now you have. Congrats on popping that cherry."

When she entered his view again, her hands were holding two plates of human food. Her gaze was fixed on the purring lump of coal in his lap.

"Oh look, she's working double time. Hope you're comfortable. Once she's out, she's out," she announced nonchalantly, taking her seat next to him once more and setting the food down. The previously hungry cat didn't even stir. Frank looked at the assortment of finger foods. Smoked salmon. He was fucked.

"Yeah. I could put bluefin tuna in front of her nose — she's not getting up. So, how are you?" she continued taunting him, the beginnings of a shit-eating grin twisting the lower half of her face.

"You think I won't move her?" he tried. It was weak, even to his own ears. The look she gave him invoked pity.

"Frank… You're tough. You can be brutal when necessary. But you're not cruel, hm?"

She blinked at him all slow. Then, reaching out to him with the same mellow movement, she brushed her hand over the cat's obsidian fur. It burrowed further into him. Of the things Frank wished he hadn't forgotten about her, it was just how much nerve she had that topped the list. When he didn't answer, her smile grew further.

"Nah. Didn't think so. On the bright side, now you can tell me what you came here for in an abundance of detail."

She didn't let his glare deter her from fully enjoying his predicament, or from trying to pretend she was a good host by handing him the plate of snacks she'd prepared. She threw another look at his lap, eyebrows raising curiously.

"She's purring up a storm. You know they do that in response to trauma sometimes?"

"I'm sure missing dinner was tough," he sassed, finally accepting the food.

"Not theirs. Yours," she replied. Curt. To the point. It gutted him most effectively. And she probably knew that.

Despite huffing and puffing the rest of the evening, and despite trying his best to seem bothered and grumpy, the noticeable absence of tension in his back muscles telegraphed otherwise, both to him and his companion. If she noticed — and he knew she did — she said nothing, only met him halfway with a steady supply of beer and ears perked up for his tactical plans. Yet, at some point, those plans turned into examples. Examples turned into anecdotes. Anecdotes became jumbled nonsense, collected from various points in his life with seemingly no thread to link them. By the time Chonks finished her dubious therapy session, she'd already handed the duty over to her temporary human guardian.

And Frank wasn't used to talking this fucking much. He didn't like it when anyone did it around him, and especially not right next to him. But every time he looked to check if he was being a pain in the ass, he only found those same eyes fixed on him and that same veiled insight resting just outside his perception. Maybe he was talking to a fucking oracle, and it would've made sense, because how else would she have known exactly what to say to his increasingly unhinged verbiage? It kept pouring out with no end in sight.

That was, until her eyes scrunched closed and a lengthy yawn fell from her lips, and guilt hit Frank Castle like the first brick to the head he'd taken on his old construction job.

"Shit, I'm s—"

He got barely anywhere with that.

"D'you know this is the first evening I've been able to relax? Usually, I'd be chewing at the drywall by now. Maybe checking the secret assassin network for another job," she said. He sensed it was said in jest, but the honesty of the words knocked him off his feet like it was a living, breathing opponent. Suddenly, his mouth couldn't form any words of its own. The same enigmatic look of the past few hours danced in her eyes. Mellowed out. Open. Yet something was just there, and he couldn't put his finger on it. A moment later, her eyes cast downward. He followed her gaze without thinking, landing on his own chest.

"I know I besmirched her reputation plenty, but maybe the little felon isn't so bad," she said. The way her voice softened didn't go unnoticed by Frank. It couldn't have — it was ripping open something raw and tender right above the spot Chonks was warming with her small body.

"Hm?" he grunted, not trusting his own voice.

For his effort, the smile he received felt undeserved. But… maybe, just maybe, a little less so than usual. It managed to extract a similar one from his own lips, ones that refused to be pried open for fear of whatever noise might've escaped.

"She got you to stay."

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-fin-

A/N: Trying to fill a gap in the market for non-smutty FC fics, it's wild out here. Also, I'll keep this up for a bit, but after it's past its "shelf life", it'll go back into my private posts, because I don't want to go back on my word (explained here ).

#frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #frank castle fluff #punisher x reader

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baby-xemnas · 5 months

Note

I'm not really a shipper, but that leaves me freedom for enjoying everyone's take/artwork on any ship. That said, I've actually never heard of LawBepo before seeing your stuff?? It's actually quite adorable? At least, what I see since it's only your stuff I see lol either way, I wanted to ask WHY Bepo? Like what drew you too the ship I guess?

Always curious how people get to ships they like haha. That and every time I practice Bepo I think of your Bepo so I figured I'd ask finally while I think of your art 😂 hope you don't mind.

Which that thing said, I need to throw in I'm positively alive for your art btw. It's so crisp and I love for the sketchy/black and white. Thank you for gracing my eyes with it.

thank you for the message!

(you never seen it because except for like a couple of artworks noone really done it at the scale that i have. at least not in the western part of the fandom)

what drew me to the ship is the hug on zou but back when i first got into op 8+ years ago but i wasnt open minded enough to take it seriously - it didnt spark ideas to make stuff in me back then yet - but i did love the hug A LOT

its adorable. its just the cutest ever and the single most affectionate that we see law. you cant argue with that if i try. idc how people interpret his other scenes, zou hug is the most obviously and openly shameless display of affection towards someone we see with law

look at this fucker smiling hes so content rubbing cheeks with his 22 year old male best friend

i came back FOR bepo because i heard of [manga spoilers] i saw it and thought yoo shit hype started looking things up and saw the STOP ACTING CUTE scene and it was all over. one more canon reason for me to ship them (that is ofc if u consider anime filler canon since both the scene i mentioned were toei expanding and improving upon odas ideas) but i do consider them canon if it suits me lol

AND THEN I SAW FILM RED CRUMBS OH MY GOD. OH YOU TOOK HIM TO THE CONCERT UNBELIEVABLE YOU LOVE HIM SO MUCH

basically we were given a ton of cute fanservice of bepo being law's favorite most precious guy and i always ship my ships in accordance to canon its just the type of person that i am

you need to give me a crumb of canon and ill justify the rest. a hook is always necessary and these two got plenty

also reading the novel and seeing bepo be such a precious little brother to law....yeah...cute

oh we cant forget that i also went to look at things on pixiv and japanese fans are geniuses so i got so inspired by the characterization of law being a protective nose bleeding weirdo and bepo being oblivious to it....incredible dynamic i got absolutely hooked. bepo is cute and good and precious and he is home and comfort to law

to summarize: why bepo? because canonically bepo is the only person in bepo's position. he gets special treatment from law, he is THE crewmember of his. he is what killer is do kid - we know most about them they are the closest to the captain. its simple math

finally thank you im glad you enjoy my style!!!!

#lawbepo #always been just the lineart guy and the rest is secondary #either blocked out flats or the most minimal cell shading lol #im super happy b/w style works for everybody cuz it sure works for ME

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ismileeprnc · 2 years

Note

i hope you can make a nct dream loving your breast~!!!

ɴᴄᴛ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ ᴀs ʟᴏᴠɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙᴏᴏʙs

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙬/𝙣𝙘𝙩 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢

𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚: 𝙛𝙡𝙪𝙛𝙛 (𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙤𝙣)

𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙✔︎

𝙖/𝙣: 𝙢𝙮 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩! 𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙜𝙪𝙮𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙮 𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙬𝙤 𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙩! 𝙏𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙮 𝙢𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙨 𝙖 𝙡𝙤𝙩! 𝙄𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚'𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙩, 𝙝𝙞𝙩 𝙪𝙥 𝙢𝙮 𝙞𝙣𝙗𝙤𝙭. 𝙀𝙣𝙟𝙤𝙮

❦ᴍᴀʀᴋ is more of an ass guy. No if, ands, but about it. However he’s got a soft spot for your boobs. He’s definitely the kind of guy where you would be cuddling and his hand would be up your shirt, resting on your boob. BONUS if you weren’t wearing a bra! It would never be anything sexual. He just liked the way you fit in his hand and how warm you were.

❦ʀᴇɴᴊᴜɴ is discreet about it. Trust me, he very much loves them but he’s not gonna flat out walk up to you and grab your boobs. DOESNT MATTER IF THEY WERE HIS! He’s classy. His approach would be in a back hug— wrapping you up in his arms as his thumb would occasionally stroke the underside of your boob, tickling you a bit. If he was feeling playful, he might even pinch them to get a yelp out of you.

❦ᴊᴇɴᴏ. They’re his personal pillow, okay! It didn’t matter if you had a dozen pillows, Jeno is going to lay on top of you. I mean like dives head first between them— rolling his face around in them, all while making little moaning sounds. They’re just so squishy that he can’t get enough. And knowing his little oral fixation (DIFFERENT POST FOR A DIFFERENT DAY) HES GOING TO BITE THEM!!!

❦ʜᴀᴇᴄʜᴀɴ has had a thing for your boobs ever since he saw you walk around in his shirt with no bra. Something about the way they sat without any support was so attractive to him. God forbid you were cold, making it more obvious that you weren’t anything underneath by your hardened nipples. “What are you doing— Haechan!” You exclaim as he abruptly pulls the fabric up, exposing your chest to the cooling air. He shh’s you before littering a hot trail of kisses along your neck, mumbling in between, “you’re so hot, baby.” And squeezes your boob.

❦Jᴀᴇᴍɪɴ is literally the SweEteSt cause if you were insecure about them, he was going to make sure that that changes. Baby will literally take off your bra and squeeze one of your boobs in one hand while he showers the other in kisses. It’s so cute yet so hot cause his eyes would bore into yours then flutter them close as his long lash would rest on top of his cheekbones. He just wants you to love all of you as much as he does.

❦ᴄʜᴇɴʟᴇ is a bit more modest when it comes to your boobs. (I think of when op asked Chenle had he seen Jeno shirtless and his reply was nonchalant, “it’s not a big deal, I see him like that often.” BUT HE HAD A KNOWING SMIRK. I’m watching you Chenle…) but yeah hahaha he would be like that with your boobs. He’s seen them of course but as far as touching them, unless it’s during sex *coughs*, he won’t do it. Why would he need to? But loves admiring them from afar. His favorite being as you got dressed, he would see you wearing the bra he bought you from Victoria Secret, smiling then at you.

“What?” Shakes his head, “nothing. You look beautiful.”

❦ᴊɪsᴜɴɢ will never admit it out loud but he absolutely loves them! Especially how they felt against his chest whenever you were in a heated make out session. Super plump and squishy. He really wants to touch them but the boy has so much respect for you, it’s honestly too precious. You felt once when he lightly grazed the lining of your bra through your shirt. “I’m sorry.” He stutters and snatches his hand away as if it had been burnt but you drew it back to your chest, letting him cup you. “It’s okay. You can touch me there.”

#nct dream #nct dream imagines #nct dream headcanons #nct dream reactions #nct dream scenarios #nct dream blurbs #nct dream fluff #nct dream x reader

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intotheelliwoods · 1 year

Text

@kinky-asexual I love myself having certain colors represent certain themes/events/occasions :) TYSM by the way!!

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I bring you this doodle! @greentrickster

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Dont know why I drew this but here you go. @wraenata Have an emotional support peepaw.

Anyways, Marcus Moncrief was on Saturday Night Live, live!! Donnie was rambling to Leo about the concept of freezing time by reaching absolute 0 in Kelvin :)

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Oh I have been waiting for someone to ask me something like this, you have no idea. Putting this ESSAY under a cut oops I wrote a ton (if the cut even works, sometimes they dont)

I am very aware of the norm of the usual take of Future Leo AU's, it was all those AU's and fics that mad inspired me after all! They are all so good and play on a very interesting concept! Issue is, it ended up being the only take I ended up seeing. With the whole future and present self having some form of resentment towards eachother even if it was just a little bit, or for only a short period of time. I honestly needed a fresh breath of air and it came to my attention as time went on that other readers also needed a breath of fresh air. So uh, I very much saw the opportunity here and took it, with the added bonus of it being in comic form since theres so many fics out there.

Yes my comic is absolutely the opposite of the norm and I plan on keeping it like that, I made it the opposite of the norm for a reason, and the reason definitely shows through the sheer numbers and attention I have been getting on this thing! I am so happy so many people are enjoying the series! I am so glad to heal everyones wounds from the anguish of the usual plotlines haha!

Sidenote, I would actually highly recommend this post by pinetreevillain, read the tags, words things better than I ever could. Not just the OP's tags, all the reblog tags too.

(There may have been fics were the Leos were actually nice to eachother, but either I did not hear of them/see them, or they were just overall not popular enough to be well known and recognized for the good relationship)

I understand that such a fast change in character meanwhile does not happen overnight. This here is probably the biggest issue I have within the series, though I do have a little bit of reasoning.

I am just going to be flat out honest, I personally find it hard for myself to sit and read through something about characters arguing, it makes me weirdly uneasy. Something something about characters who love eachother yelling it out just hits me in a way I try to avoid whoops. So if I find it hard to read something like that, it is even harder for me to write and draw it out myself, there will be no forms of these sorts situations in the series because of that. Though this does tie back into me trying to avoid the norm, having everyone be kind to Leo after the movie is a take you do not see often.

I actually attempted addressing the movie aftermath with Raph and Leo with this comic, it was the whole point on why I made the comic! Because yes! I These two really did need some new take, my own take, on the aftermath. I wanted to show in that comic that Raph is not mad, happy actually, that Leo managed to pull himself together for such an act. Leo proved on that day that he knew what he was doing, how to care for a team, and that he was truly meant for his role as the leader.

Final little point: Lets be honest I dont think anyone will have the guts to even be mad at Leo after he sacrificed himself and his arm to save everyone. How could anyone be mad at that? Outside the fear of loosing him of course

#asks #2 arms left #my art

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pedrito-friskito · 7 months

Note

Happy Sleepover lovely Kay!!

You know how I love me some Steve Rogers, I’d love to request him with the prompt…

“You have any idea how much I hated seeing someone else touch you.”

Please and thank you!

🌹

ericca!!! thanks for such a fun request ☺️ the inspo jumped out of me on this one (but my apologies for taking so long to get it posted!) and out came a sequel/follow-up to walking the wire!!

would def recommend reading that before you read this (if you haven’t already 😉)

tell me your troubles - steve rogers x fem!super soldier reader (phoenix)

word count: 3k

warnings: lil more than canon-typical violence (i like netflix marvel more than disney marvel these days can u tell), lowkey possessive!steve, heavy make outs, shower sex, oral (f receiving), unprotected p-in-v (they’re supersoldiers ok but wrap it before you tap it) - also russian translations from google so if it’s not right I’M SORRY

Nat gives the order to fall back, and it goes against every fibre of Steve’s being to obey.

They have you. They have his girl.

It’s Nat’s op. She’s in charge, and he knows this isn’t her fault, that she’s not to blame for the fact that you’re not by his side right now, that you’re instead being hauled into the back of a large van, too-thick cuffs banding your arms behind your back. He’s having flashbacks to Berlin, to Bucky in a cage. They put a hood over your head, and you manage to catch his eye before your face disappears from view.

Go.

His every instinct is screaming at him to go after you, doubly so when the van starts to drive away. But there are bombs planted between you and him, obstructing his path. One wrong step, and no amount of super-soldier serum could save him from being blasted apart. And then where would that leave him?

Where would that leave you?

“I want a plan,” he spits as soon as they’re back at the makeshift base they’ve been calling home the last few months. It’s no Stark Tower, but there’s running water and a bed he’s shared with you most nights, a haphazard sign scrawled on the door — Cap & Phoenix. Bucky drew a little cartoon shield and a flame to go along with it.

He sees Nat bristle as he barks his order, but when her sharp gaze flicks to him, something in him softens. He tends to forget, that she cares for you on a similar level to his own affection. Not the same type granted, but the Widow holds you close to her heart, and despite Steve’s own confirmation that Nat’s not to blame for your kidnapping, he can see in her face that she doesn’t think the same.

“You didn’t do this, Nat,” he says, following her into the large office they’ve used to map out missions. Bucky and Sam make themselves scarce, disappearing from the corner of Steve’s vision. “We all knew there was a risk.”

“She was right there,” Nat replies, shaking her head, sinking into a crouch in front of the table, surveying the map you’d all reviewed before leaving. “She was right there, and I let them grab her.”

“We couldn’t have known they’d have the capability, the means to—”

“This is my fault, Steve.”

“It’s not,” he reiterates, hand clenched into a fist, knuckles pressed to the table. “I know it, Phoenix knows it. But letting it get the better of you isn’t going to bring her back. You think you made a mistake, then fix it. We find her.” He plants his other fist. “No matter the cost.”

Nat arches one perfect brow, and he can already see the wheels turning behind her eyes. “Sir, yes, sir.”

Tracking you down is the easy part; recovering you proves to be a touch more complicated.

Natasha’s plan is airtight this time, outright refusing to split the team, the four of them moving through the building silently. They have each other’s backs, and soon enough, they’ll have you. But it’s a maze from the moment they step in. The map they have is accurate, but it’s more heavily guarded than they’re anticipating. Nat and Bucky both put men down with acute precision — assassin precision — and Steve finds himself lagging behind Sam, his knuckles aching from the sheer number of punches he’s delivered.

Part of him feels naked without the shield. He gave it up for a reason, before he had you. It’s something he’s talked through over and over, you sprawled on his chest, chin propped on the back of your hand, watching him talk as he stares at the ceiling.

Talk to me, drevniy. Tell me your troubles.

That last night, before the mission went awry, it was the same. He’d talked himself in circles, until his voice went hoarse and he was losing himself to the soft press of your body against his, and then all he really wanted to lose himself in you instead, so he did.

You held him close after and murmured something in Russian he couldn’t quite make out. He lifted his head to ask you what the words meant, but you kissed him before he could get the question out, and you’d drifted off to sleep a few minutes later. He didn’t have the heart to wake you.

Damn the shield, he thinks now, trying not to flinch when Bucky pulls the trigger on his gun, more men dropping to the floor. Damn it all.

They round a corner, and Steve nearly crashes into Nat’s stalled figure.

“Hello, Captain.”

You’re strapped to a chair. Restrained nearly the exact same way that Bucky was back in Berlin. Only him, the man Steve had watched cart you away, he’s got his hand knotted in the back of your hair, your head yanked back, your throat bared, a large knife pressed against it. It could be steel, but Steve would bet good money it’s vibranium.

Steve darts forward, but Nat throw her hand out, stopping him. She tilts her chin imperceptibly, and Steve’s eyes follow the direction, spotting a generator in the far corner. From the corner of his gaze, he sees Bucky catch on, and wordlessly, the plan is formed.

“Let her go,” Steve calls to your captor, and when the man starts laughing, Bucky slinks into the shadows, towards the generator. Nat raises her gun, aiming at the thugs flanking either side of your captor, and Steve’s hands clench into tighter fists.

“I would not do that if I were you, Captain Rogers,” the man taunts, waving a finger in the air. “You have not even heard the bargain I propose, for the return of your sweet Phoenix.”

“I don’t make it a habit of bargaining with kidnappers,” Steve returns, and the man yanks your hair back harder. He can hear your slight whimper from where he stands. “Let her go, and maybe I let you live.” From the corner of his eye, he can see Bucky near the generator, hidden by the shadows — perks of super-soldier sight and stealth.

The man starts laughing. He sees the glint of the knife press against your neck, and a single drop of blood beads along the blade. Nat’s eyes cut to Steve’s, he nods, and Bucky’s metal fist connects with the generator, sparks flying as the room is plunged into darkness.

It comes in flashes. Bullets spark through the air as Nat takes down the two thugs who have started running for them. Bucky shoots forward, yanking the metal away from where it’s restraining your arms and pulls you out of the chair. Steve disarms your captor, the knife now streaked with your blood, but before he can do anything else, you grab it from him, whipping it over your shoulder. The blade buries itself in your captor’s chest, and the man drops instantly.

Steve reaches for you, hauling you into his arms, and you cling to him as you all turn tail, heading out of the building. It’s not until you reach the Quinjet that Steve finally feels relief, but remembers the blood and takes you to the back of the jet while Nat and Bucky prepare for takeoff.

“Let me see,” he murmurs, and wordlessly, you push your hair away, baring your neck to him. The scratch is barely visible, already just the remnant of a scar, but Steve knows it won’t go away, not completely. He wipes the blood gingerly from your skin, his movements gentle even though he knows he can’t hurt you, not truly.

His brow furrows as he looks the rest of you over. There are no other obvious injuries, or evidence of them. Your clothing is tattered, dirt and grime smeared on your skin, and there’s a brightness in your eyes that he hasn’t seen in a long time — not since they pulled you out of that lab.

“I’m fine, drevniy,” you say, grabbing his wrist when his attention falls back to your neck, to the tiny scar now there. “It will take much more than a scratch like that to take me from you.”

Steve bristles at the mere thought. He feels like a live wire suddenly, exposed, vulnerable. You tug on his hand, pulling his palm until it rests over your heart, until he can feel the rapid beat if it against his skin. You lean up, fitting your lips to his pulse, a soft kiss to his throat. His whole body feels tight as a bowstring, and while the feeling of you has soothed it some, he can’t shake it.

“Steve,” you call, your voice low, almost cajoling. Suddenly, he feels guilty. You’re the one who was kidnapped; he should be comforting you, not the other way around. The corner of your mouth lifts. “Tell me your troubles.”

He groans, and the tether on his restraint snaps. Both his hands move to your face, cupping your cheeks in his palms. He hears your quick intake of breath right before his mouth covers yours, and you sigh into him, your body relaxing almost completely in his grip.

“You have no idea,” you murmur, and the purr in your voice makes his tac pants grow tight, “how much I missed your touch.”

“Baby,” he nearly growls, pushing you back against the metal wall of the jet. You’re tucked in the corner now, out of sight of Nat and Bucky, and Steve’s plan forms quicker than Nat’s rescue had. “I need you right now.”

Your breath hitches high, the noise catching in your throat, and Steve’s hands drop from your face to your waist, tugging your hips until they’re flush with his. “Right now?” you ask, a teasing smile on your face. “Buck’s hearing is as good as yours is, Steve. You want him hearing you take what’s yours? Want him to know what I sound like?”

The reminder tugs his restraint back into place. Something deep in his chest, something feral and wild, growls in response. Mine. He lifts you until you’re high enough to wrap your legs around his hips and his fingers press into your sides, feeling the rush of your blood beneath your skin, the heat of it.

He kisses you until the jet touches down again.

As soon as the ramp lowers, he hauls you over his shoulder and stalks down it, his boots clanging against the metal. He barely hears Nat’s low chuckle behind him and grinds his teeth when you palms settle on the small of his back, fingers tapping random patterns against his skin.

Once you’re inside, he heads straight for the bathroom you’ve been sharing. You barely get a word out as he turns the water on, nearly as hot as it’ll go, just like you like it. When he turns back, you’re naked, and more relief blankets him when he sees you’re untouched, unscarred.

“You’re wearing too many clothes, Captain,” you grin, and Steve backs you against the wall, desperate to feel your bare skin against his. You bite your lip as his palms skim up your ribs, but he feels your hands on his belt, unhooking it with ease. But then the light in your eyes changes, and as his belt thunks to the floor, your hand roves up his chest, two fingers tucked under his chin, tilting his face to yours. “I knew you’d come for me.”

Something in his chest cracks. “Of course I did. I…”

He’d barely let himself feel it, when he saw you there, strapped to that chair, that man’s hands on you, the knife at your throat. The…intensity, the way he instantly knew he would do whatever was necessary to get you back. If Nat hadn’t pulled his focus, pointed out the more sensible path, he can only guess what might have happened, what mess he might have left behind.

Your palm, light against his cheek, pulls him out of his head. “Hey, come back to me,” you call, your voice so soft, so sincere, it pushes away the violence in his head, the guilt that threatens to brew over things he hasn’t even done. “I’m here, krasivyy. Alive. Intact. Yours.” You get closer, your nose brushing his, lips grazing his when you speak. “Only yours.”

“Mine,” he repeats, like the word might bring him back down to earth. His hands grip your hips, lifting you with ease, growling when he feels your legs wrap around his waist. “Watching him touch you, you have no idea how I…” He bites off the sentence with a groan as you grind against him, your bare core leaving a wet patch on the spot just above his waist. Keeping you in place with his hips, he rips the shirt off, tossing it away as he pushes at his pants, barely getting them down his legs before his cock is springing free. The head taps between your legs and it makes you squirm.

“I’m yours, drevniy,” you say, and the nickname once made him bristle, but now it just lights a fire in his chest. “Only yours. No one else gets to touch.” You lean up, pulling yourself against his chest, nosing at his neck, scraping your teeth at his earlobe. “Just you.”

Steve growls again, holding you against him with one arm, wrenching the shower door open with the other. You hiss when the water hits you, but the sound drags out into a low moan as he positions you beneath the spray, steam filling the stall, smudging your outlines.

He lets his hands roam, massaging your limbs, cleaning the dirt from your skin. You hum along with his movements, your head tipping back between your shoulders when he works your chest, wiping away the dried blood and grime. Then he walks you back, pushing you against the tiles. You gasp when your back touches them, the porcelain so much colder than the water, but Steve’s made up his mind.

He starts at your lips. Kisses you rough, bites at you bottom lip, pushes his tongue past your teeth to tangle with yours. When your hands move to grip his hair, wet strands wrapped around his knuckles, he groans into your mouth, drags his lips along your jaw, down your throat.

He bends slightly, tracing your collarbones with his tongue. Your hands don’t leave his hair, only gripping tighter as he moves down, nose dragging along your sternum. But then he pauses, cheats left, scraping the scruff of his jaw along the curve of your breast. You breathe out his name when he closes his lips around your nipple, giving you just the edge of his teeth, pinching the other between his knuckles lightly before rolling it between his fingers.

“Steve.”

He grins against you, sure you can feel it as he pulls back, satisfied only when he sees your nipple is peaked, tight from his attention. Then he does it all over again on the right, only stopping when you tug at his hair, a panting mess as you look down at him, your eyes heavy-lidded with lust.

“What are you…” you start to ask, but the words drop off into a moan when he drops to his knees, using his shoulder to wedge your legs wide, leaning in to bite the inside of your thigh.

“Appreciating what’s mine,” he replies, tongue soothing the spot he bit. “Too much?”

You shake your head, rolling it against the tile, a blissed-out smile on your face. Fuck, he missed you. Can’t imagine his life without you. “Never,” you reply, meeting his gaze again. “Prityazhatel'nyy padezh.”

Steve’s brow lifts, and he puts his face against your thigh again, dragging his tongue up toward the heat between your legs. “Translate, please.”

“Possessive.” You moan the word, one hand staying in his hair while the other reaches up to squeeze at your breast. “Fuck, I should have gotten myself kidnapped a long time ago.”

The thought makes him see red, and you squeal as he grabs both your thighs, throwing them over his shoulders and diving straight between your legs.

“Steve!”

He eats your pussy like he’s never done before. Nips and sucks and licks until your thighs are quaking around his ears, until your cries bounce off the tile walls. You’re an oasis in a desert, his first meal after being starved for days. You’re everything.

You’re his.

He doesn’t stop until you cum, your hand an iron vice against his scalp, tugging so hard it gives him just that little twinge of pain, and he’s reminded how evenly matched you are. He takes everything you have to give, drinks down every drop until you’re pushing at him, overstimulated, body lax in his grip. He works his way back up to standing, worshipping you on the way up the same as he had on the way down. Your chest heaves against his as he pushes his body against yours, caging you in against the wall, keeping you safe.

“Tell me something,” he asks, and you nod, the movement lazy, your hands dragging up and down his ribs as he straightens, reaches up to brush a wet strand of hair from your face.

“Mm?”

Steve leans in, nosing at the curve of your jaw before pressing a soft kiss to your throat. “How do you say I love you in Russian?”

Your whole body jolts as the words fall past his lips, and he chuckles into your skin, pulling you even closer, wrapping his body around yours. Your head tips back, eyes trained on the ceiling, but you hold him just as close. “You’re going soft, drevniy.”

“Only for you,” he replies, nipping at your throat. “Yours, remember?”

Your quiet laugh seems to echo around the shower until you speak again. “Ya tebya lyublyu.” You say, and Steve gives his best repetition, earning himself another chuckle from you. After his second try, your eyes lower, and he sees the wetness in them. “I love you, too.”

#my fics #tell me your troubles #sleepover sundae #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers smutt #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #marvel fic #nomad steve rogers #captain america x phoenix

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because-of-a-friend · 2 years

Text

How To Fall

MASTERLIST

Thank you anon and @kyuluvrr ! Gosh I don’t even remember when y’all requested these, I feel so terrible about the wait, I just wasn’t sure what to do for this one at all, and I wanted to do it well! So I took this anon request and added extra angst for kyuluvrr, hope you’ll like it!

Warnings: Angst, mentions of insecurity, mentions eating, cursing, an idiotic author who accidentally made herself root for Joshua in this one, let me know if I missed anything! DID NOT PROOF READ

Word Count: 5.6k

Remember that gifs aren’t mine! I always leave the links to the OPs, so if you like the gif, click through and show the creator some love!

Joshua was pretty strict about keeping his work and personal life separate. He always insisted on having a world outside of Seventeen, a world where he didn’t have to worry about his image and how he might come off to others. He cherished the time when he could fully be himself.

You had been anchored firmly in his private life, having met him before his debut. Overtime, you came to know just how firmly he drew lines between his lives. He refused to speak about work, never went out where people would recognize him, and groaned whenever you tried to play a Seventeen song.

He had kept his bandmates behind the work life wall. Despite being such good friends with them, he knew his personal life would be compromised if he brought them into it. He would no longer just be Joshua Hong, but Seventeen’s Joshua.

Which is why the invite to their dorm for a dinner party on Josh’s birthday is an utter surprise.

The fact that you had never met any of the other boys before became a seed in the pit of your stomach that sprouted nothing but anxiety. It was Joshua’s birthday, you wanted everything to go well. You could only hope that meeting his bandmates wouldn’t breed any dislike, conflict, or, god forbid, awkwardness.

...And honestly... you just want people to like you.

You gazed over your reflection in the window of a shop as you made your way to their dorm. You fussed over your sleeves and where your top met your jeans. Your whole outfit that you had left home in with so much confidence, suddenly seems like a trainwreck to you.

No. No.

You reset your hair the way you like and shake your head slightly. There’s no reason to let your anxiety decide the night for you, you decide. Just get there, try your best to be friendly, and whatever happens, happens.

You strut ever so slightly on your way, trying to convince yourself that there’s confidence running in your veins.

It disappears when you finally find yourself sat around a table with your best friend and his bandmates.

You’re practically shrinking in your seat under the volume of their conversation, and your head spins trying to keep up with the speed of it. You take small bites of your food, feeling overly self-concious in your current position.

But Josh-?

Yes, he’s fine, you look over to see. He’s laughing at something Seungkwan said, you’re sure he’s having a good time. That’s what matters. He looks your way for a moment, eyebrows raised in questioning. You nod and smile to assure him: there’s nothing to worry about.

As soon as he looks away, you shrink back down, hoping to just disappear for the night.

“You know,” someone suddenly leans in on your right, “if it gets too overwhelming, you can just ignore them. Trust me, you won’t miss anything life-changing.”

You had no idea who was sitting next to you. You had merely leapt down into an available seat when you arrived, hoping you hadn’t kept them waiting to eat. You turn to see Wonwoo, smiling kindly at you. You let yourself laugh at his joke.

“Sorry we didn’t all introduce ourselves properly earlier, quite rude of us. I’m Wonwoo,” he sticks his hand out.

“Oh no need to worry about formal introductions, it’s a party after all. I’m [Y/N],” you take his waiting hand. His skin is soft and warm, his grip firm but not harsh, and he holds onto you a second longer than you thought he would.

“Well [Y/N], nice to finally put a face to the name. Although I’m sure you know Josh well enough to know-”

“He’s hardly mentioned me at all?” you guess.

“Right, so what is it you do again?”

“Oh right, I’m currently working part-time while in grad school...”

The voices of the other boys fade out. Wonwoo is a perfect distraction, with his gentle voice, simple questions, and warm presence. He speaks with you the rest of the night, making sure you don’t feel left out and even giving you helpful tips on how to connect with the other boys.

After you say your goodbyes to Joshua and make your way home, all you can think about is how his hand felt wrapped around yours.

*****

The next time you have the “privelage” to see the boys, it’s after one of their concerts. Joshua, true to his nature, usually doesn’t acknowledge your presence at their performances. He’ll even make a big show of covering his ears and blocking out your voice if you ever try to compliment him on a show.

Thick, heavy lines between his worlds.

But this time, when he gets your text alerting him of your presence in the crowd, he invites you to stick around and get dinner with him after the show. Once the lights go up in the stadium, you begin to head out with the rest of the crowd, intending to just roam around until Josh texts you but then suddenly, someone is calling your name.

“Excuse me! [Y/N] [L/N]?”

You turn to see a middle-aged man, wearing a black t-shirt with the venue’s logo on it. His lanyard swings wildly back and forth as he waves you down. You trot over to where he leans over the barrier between the floor and the stage.

“Yes, I’m [Y/N] [L/N], how can I help you?”

“I was asked to escort you to the back, Joshua said he would meet you once he’s done getting out of his stage clothes,” the man pushes part of the barrier aside and lets you slip through.

“And back into some other clothes before he comes to see me, I hope,” you joke. The man does not laugh. You decide to follow him in silence, cringing internally the whole way.

The man stops you in a hallway and assures you that he’ll tell Joshua where you are. You bow respectfully and thank him, hoping to have at least one half-decent interaction with the man.

You play on your phone as you lean against the wall of the hallway. The wait ends up being way longer than you thought it would be. You continuously switch your lightstick from one arm to the other, feeling the strap begin to dig into your skin from leaving it dangling for so long. You also begin to alternate bending your legs to prop them against the wall behind you, the exhaustion from the day’s events finally starting to weigh your body down.

“Oh hey there!” a voice, one that you recognize but know isn’t Josh’s, calls to you.

You look up to see Wonwoo standing in front of you. Just a while before he had been in a flashy stage outfit, all tight leather and vivid makeup. But now he’s donning a large hoody, clean face, sparkling eyes, and wide smile.

You straighten yourself out and push off the wall, “Oh, hi Wonwoo!”

“I didn’t realize you were coming tonight!” Wonwoo lets his gaze fall to the floor and kicks his right leg out a little.

“Oh, usually I just leave right after, Joshua you know...” you gesture vaguely in the air and Wonwoo laughs. “But today he asked if I wanted to get dinner after.”

Wonwoo’s eyes brighten even more, “Does that mean you’re coming to dinner with all of us?”

“Oh I didn’t know what Josh had planned-”

“[Y/N]’s coming to dinner with us?!” you turned to see Soonyoung standing nearby. When did he get here?

“Oh, no. I don’t know if I’m-” you try to insist.

“GUYS! [Y/N]’s COMING TO DINNER WITH US!” Soonyoung turns and runs back down the hall.

“Well now I guess you have no choice,” Wonwoo smiles at you before tugging on your sleeve. “C’mon, we should be loading into the vans any moment now.”

You get wedged between Josh and Mingyu on the van ride, Wonwoo had been dragged away by Seungcheol into one of the other cars. You ignore Josh, who only wanted to grumble about how he intended for just the two of you to go to dinner. Instead you actually speak to Mingyu, who had been worn out enough by the concert to speak at a normal volume and pace.

At the restaurant, Wonwoo makes his way back over to you and sits with you and Josh. “Were they too much during the car ride?” he whispers to you.

You shake your head, “Not at all! Me and Mingyu actually had a nice conversation!”

“Well that’s good,” Wonwoo nods.

Sensing an awkward pause coming, you quickly speak up, “I really liked the performance!”

“Oh, yeah?” Wonwoo smiles at you. The way his teeth stick out ever so slightly when he smiles plucks something at the center of your heart.

“Yeah! Josh usually doesn’t let me talk about it,” you nudge your best friend with your elbow, ignoring his immediate claim that you’re lying. “But, I think you guys are really great at what you do!”

“So which song was your favorite?”

You find yourself once again depending on Wonwoo for conversation on a night out with the boys. But it’s not so bad. In fact, you’re finding yourself being naturally pulled towards him. You can’t help but fawn over the way he catches your sleeve before it falls in your food, or how he asks you a question and genuinely listens to your answer, or the way he makes sure your water glass is full by filling it with the pitcher at the table.

“Ok everyone, say your goodbyes to [Y/N], I’m giving them a ride home,” Joshua pulls you away from the group as you exit the restaurant.

Soonyoung puts on a big show of bidding you farewell, until Joshua tells him off. “What?” Soonyoung puts his hands up. “Knowing you, this could very well be the last time we ever see [Y/N].”

You laugh loudly at the expression Josh makes in response, “C’mon, let’s go. Bye guys! I’ll see you around!”

Josh pouts at you as soon as the two of you are alone. “What? How was I supposed to know Soonyoung would tell everyone I was coming to group dinner?”

“Ugh, it’s fine, I know it’s not your fault. Was it ok?”

“Of course it was! Why would you think it wouldn’t be?”

“I know they can be... a lot,” Joshua looks sideways at you.

You shrug, “I’ve found that if I just stick to talking with Wonwoo, it’s usually not so bad.”

Joshua frowns but only for a moment, “Wonwoo?”

“Yeah... Wonwoo.”

*****

For someone who carried himself with so much confidence, Joshua was truthfully such a dumbass sometimes.

How had he managed to leave his whole phone at your place last night? That means he would have had to leave, take the trip back to the dorm, get ready for bed and never once notice it was gone.

You didn’t even know what his schedule was that day, where he would be or when. But judging by the texts he was getting from some of the managers, he would probably need his device.

You decided to take a shot in the dark and head to the dorm. Even if he wasn’t there, surely someone who would know where to find him would be... right?

You only managed to throw on a t-shirt and sweats before rushing out the door. Why did it have to be so hot? You could feel the sweat sticking your shirt to your skin by the time you got to the dorm. Disgusting.

You were out of breath by the time you were knocking on the door.

“[Y/N]? Are you ok?”

Fuck.

Of course it was Wonwoo.

“Huh? Yeah I’m totally fine! I just came to drop off Josh’s phone!” you pant. Wonwoo frowns before taking the device from you. He makes a slight “ah” sound and nods in recognition. He opens his mouth to thank you. “Well that’s all, I’ll be heading out now!” you quickly cough up.

“Oh wait, no,” Wonwoo leans forward to grab your upper arm and drags you inside. “You’re burning up, [Y/N]. Sit down and drink some water. I’ll see if one of the managers can give you a ride home.”

“That’s really not necessary-” you try to insist. But Wonwoo has already pushed you down into a chair, pulled out his own phone and walked to the fridge. He types something on his keyboard as he sets a water bottle down in front of you. You nod your head in thanks and happily drink from it.

“Manager Kim has to head out in a few to run an errand anyways, he said he’ll take you!” Wonwoo offers dropping his phone into his back pocket.

“You guys really don’t have to do that for me!” you shake your head and hands desperately.

“Well I’m not letting you walk home in this state. What, did you run here?” Wonwoo gestures to your person.

“Maybe!” you exclaim. Wonwoo laughs. “Well, it’s just that,” you sigh, “it seemed like he was missing a lot of calls so I got worried he was missing something important, and-”

Wonwoo puts his hands up to stop you, “Well it was very nice of you. So, let me do something nice in return. I’m sure Joshua would want to thank you somehow.”

You nod then look up, “So he’s not here right now?”

Wonwoo shakes his head, “I’ll tell him to call you as soon as I get him his phone.” He holds up the device and waves it for emphasis. “Speaking of which.” Wonwoo fishes his own cell back out of his pocket. “Put your number in.” He pushes the phone towards you.

“Huh?” you say in surprise.

“I think I situation like this warrants you having at least one more of our phone numbers,” Wonwoo flashes you his winning smile.

“Oh right, I suppose it would be best in case of emergency,” you grab the phone, careful to avoid touching him. You type your number in and hit call. Once his number pops up on your phone, you hand Wonwoo’s back to him.

Wonwoo smiles as he saves your contact. “What?” you lean forward to try and see. “Did you give me a mean nickname?” Wonwoo jerks the phone back and shakes his head, his grin turning into something mischievous.

“[Y/N] [L/N]? Are you ready to go?” you turn to see a man in a black t-shirt. He’s tall, nearly as tall as Mingyu. But leans as he speaks to you.

“Oh right!” you jump up from your seat and rush to follow the manager out the door.

“See ya around!” Wonwoo calls after you.

****

Wonwoo texts you often.

You try to convince yourself it’s normal... friendly.

But Joshua doesn’t even text you this much.

Hm... that’s right.

But honestly you can’t stop. Wonwoo is simply easy to converse with and you enjoy hearing from him. And it’s nice to have a new friend.

That word doesn’t fit quite right in your mind when you think of Wonwoo. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t formed a bit of a crush on him from the very first time he spoke to you.

But friend still felt more appropriate. At the end of the day, you still didn’t know Wonwoo that well. And... what would Josh think? He had tried so hard to keep you to himself so he had his own space outside of Seventeen... surely this wouldn’t go over well.

So you kept it in texts and occasional group meetings. Pushing lines ever so slightly with heart emojis in text and excuses to brush shoulders in real life.

But even with keeping it safe, you can’t stop the feeling that maybe a piece of your heart might belong to him.

*****

Wonwoo got drunk. Really drunk.

You knew you’d be making your own way home by yourself that night so you had been trapped drinking nothing but water while the boys get wasted around you. Josh’s arm never leaves your shoulder as he loudly recounts funny stories to the other boys and sloshes his beer across the table.

You might be annoyingly sober but it’s still fun. You had no idea what a lightweight Soonyoung would be or how easily Seokmin started crying sometimes. Even the quieter members like Jihoon and Myungho had started raising their voices, a feeble attempt at overtaking the din of other speakers around them.

You can’t help but laugh at their pink cheeks and slurred words and exaggerated emotions. At that point Jeonghan had insisted to you at least five times that they were happy to have you around and that you should hang out with them more (and he made you pinky swear every single time he made his spiel).

Then you feel the lightest weight against your shoulder.

Wonwoo.

He had finally crashed, evidently, the tip of his nose landing directly against the apex of your shoulder. You lower your arm immediately, letting his head fall fully against you. When he begins to shift you reach your hand up to catch him and reposition his head at a better angle.

“You alright?” you ask quietly. Wonwoo makes a “hmf” sound against your shirt and gives a motion that could be considered a nod. You laugh lightly and press a hand to his back, hoping to keep him from busting his ass on the floor.

You’re reaching forward to grab a water bottle for him when Wonwoo readjusts himself and presses his nose into your neck. Heat blossoms across your skin, emanating from that spot and you find yourself gripping the back of his shirt.

“[Y/N] [L/N], you wanna know something?” he giggles into your skin. “I reeeeeeeally like you... like a lot. And I- I think you might be the only person that really knows me.”

And then, he’s out like a light.

*****

You imagine this is what it must feel like to expect a nice walk in the park only to be hit really hard in the face and then immediately afterwards, fall backwards into a thorny bush.

This whole evening fucking sucks.

Months of speaking with Wonwoo, getting to know him on the deepest and most intimate level, and plenty of what was obvious flirting shatters on the ground in front of you.

She’s pretty, the girl that’s with him. She looks absolutely elegant in her dress, makeup perfect, and movements graceful as she grabs Wonwoo’s arm and kisses his cheek.

Had you really been this stupid? Wonwoo had a girlfriend? Did you think he was really interested in you?

You step back, hoping to disappear in the shadows of the street behind you, your cloudy mind already trying to think of an excuse to tell Josh why you can’t make it to dinner.

But then Wonwoo turns and meets your eyes. And he knows. He must. It’s written across your face.

Who is this? Are you with her? Did you ever like me? Didn’t you know I loved you?

And as if the moment couldn’t get any worse, “[Y/N], what’s the matter?” Josh’s hand is grasping at your elbow. You only shake your head, stepping back once more before turning fully and rushing out of the light of the streetlamp.

Josh follows after you, because of course he does. “Hey, [Y/N], wait up, tell me what’s the matter!” He catches you in the dark, streetlamp-light being blocked by the row of trees growing next to the sidewalk. It casts a murky glow over the vines growing across the wall to your right.

You couldn’t hold your tears in. You held out long enough for Wonwoo to not see it, but it’s too much by the time Joshua reaches you.

You have no idea what to say to Josh as he looks at you, hands gripping your arms, eyes ever-searching. Where do you begin? How do you ask for help? How do you say the things that you need to say?

“Did you know that Wonwoo was dating someone?” Is all that comes out.

And as soon as the words leave your mouth, Joshua’s presence is pulled from you.

“This is about Wonwoo?” the venom in his voice when he spits out the words sends ice down your spine. You stop crying from the shock, Josh had never spoken to you like that.

“Yeah?” your voice is so timid and weak when it comes out.

“Is Wonwoo the one you like, then?” Joshua is glowering at you.

“I didn’t know how to tell you-” your defense is cut off when Joshua gives a chuckle.

“Jeonghan said he noticed that you’d been acting all light and fluttery. That it really seemed like you’d fallen for someone. I thought maybe...” Joshua trails off, as he stares at the ground. He nods a couple times and then looks away from you. His shoulders are tense, his face is scrunched up, you catch the reflection of water pooling in his eyes.

“Thought what, Joshua?”

“Do you really not know, [Y/N]?” a few tears slip down as Josh faces you. The way his voice breaks feels like someone pulled a rug out from under your heart and left it to fall through the void.

You only shake your head. There’s nothing left for you to say. Joshua has to be the one to speak it aloud.

“I’m in love with you.” A beat of silence. “I have been in love with you since we met. And I thought maybe, you were finally starting to love me too, but then-” Joshua gestures angrily in the direction of the restaurant.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” A lump had formed in your throat, heavy and painful. It hung onto your words, trying to drag them from your mouth and down your esophagus where they couldn’t be found.

“I just thought, maybe... you knew.” Joshua sounded defeated. He looked defeated.

You had made him feel defeated.

Maybe you had known. Maybe somewhere your subconscious had picked up on it. But you had just willfully ignored it, knowing you didn’t feel the same and not wanting to lose a friend.

That had sure worked out well for you.

“Josh, I’m so sorry-”

“No, just go home,” Josh waved you away. “Please, [Y/N], just leave.”

All you could do was nod silently and obey his request.

No reason for anything else to happen that night.

*****

You hadn’t spoken to Josh (or any member of Seventeen for that matter) in a full year.

Exactly a year. The date on your phone told you it was the anniversary of when Wonwoo had broken your heart and you had broken Josh’s in turn.

You had kept track in the silence. Watching stories and posts on Joshua’s private instagram account. He seemed to be doing a lot better these days. He spent a lot of time out and about, keeping himself busy and spending time with the people he cared about.

You could tell from his posts that, thankfully, his friendship with Wonwoo hadn’t been affected by your royal fuck up.

You knew nothing at all about Wonwoo.

You had taken the day off, the memories of what happened a year before had resurfaced and you found old feelings being dredged up just by looking at the date on your phone.

It had been difficult for you, of course, losing both Josh and Wonwoo all on the same day. You had grieved for months after, and according to several of your friends, you had been a “total and utter wreck.”

But, like Josh, you had picked yourself up again. Began to work on yourself, try new hobbies, read new books, invest more in the friendships that Joshua had always taken priority over.

You tried to stop yourself from wondering how things could be different. How it would have been to be in a relationship with Wonwoo. How nice it would have been to know someone fully and be known in return. How much better it all would have been if you had at least remained friends with Joshua in this time.

You shook your head.

You had also been working on confidence. Not letting the “what-ifs” control you and actually saying what you mean and what you feel. No more broken hearts over unintentional secrets.

The boba shop was a cute one, all windows and pastel colors. It was a nice bright place to be on a day like this.

A day where all you could really bring yourself to do is stare at the last text you sent Josh. Twelve months ago. “Please talk to me when you’re ready.” Read. No reply.

You sigh and will yourself to shut your phone off. You grab your drink from the table and head for the door, maybe a walk by the river would do you some good.

Everyone is out and the weather is nice. The sense of community around you is comforting. The world just seems particularly bright on this day.

And then suddenly he’s in front of you.

Josh has a simple smile on his face. His style has changed but not too much. And his hair has been dyed a different color.

You wave tentatively to see how he’ll react. It’s an invitation. He can accept or walk away.

His smile grows and he waves back.

*****

You find yourself back in a boba shop, although this one is much quieter and you’re sitting in a shadowy corner in the back.

Josh sits across from you once he’s acquired his drink, settling down in his seat with a dramatic sigh.

“I like your hair,” you offer an ice-breaker.

“Really? I was sure you were going to make fun of it,” he reaches up to absentmindedly pet the blonde, nearly white, locks sitting atop his head.

“No,” you shake your head, “it looks really good on you.”

You both stare at each other in silence. Knowing what’s to come. Fearing the words. Anticipating the resolution. Once you both notice the other is only staring you can’t help but break into a fit of laughter.

“Sorry, sorry,” Joshua shakes his hands where they rest slightly against the table, “I guess I should speak.”

“I guess you should,” you half-encourage, half-joke.

Josh readies himself for a moment, mulling over the words he’s about to speak. He presses his hands firmly against the table top, “Firstly, I want to say sorry.” You want to protest the apology but you fight the urge and let him speak. “I definitely didn’t handle that night correctly. I made you feel guilty for something that wasn’t your fault. It was just... how you felt. And I shouldn’t have acted so entitled to your love. That was wrong of me. And I just... disappeared. I wasn’t there when you needed me, all because of my stupid ego. And I should’ve reached out earlier. I’m really sorry [Y/N].”

You shake your head and reach out to grab his hands, “I’m sorry too, Josh. I should have just... communicated what I was thinking and feeling to you instead of acting like I couldn’t trust my own best friend. I think I might have held back from you on purpose, I was just so afraid of how it would all affect our friendship and I was so worried about losing you. It was unfair of me to be dishonest. I wish I could do it all over again. And I’m happy that you took the space you needed to to heal. That’s what matters to me.”

Josh smiles back at you, “You wanna maybe grab lunch sometime soon? As friends of course.”

The joke makes you choke on your boba.

*****

You let Josh rekindle your friendship at his own pace. It’s slow-going at times but you’re just elated to have your best friend back.

He brings you back around the boys again but he’s careful to help you avoid Wonwoo. Although he can’t stop himself from mentioning that the girl you saw Wonwoo with was just a temporary fling and they had broken up ages ago.

You give Josh a sideways glance.

“What?” he puts his hands up in a defensive gesture. “I’m just telling you so you know.”

You stare him down longer.

“I didn’t spend the past year of my life getting over you and bettering myself just for you to assume I’d get jealous of you and Wonwoo possibly dating. Do you really think you hold that much sway over me, ya narcissist?” Joshua flicks your forehead.

You shrug after pushing him off of you, “I don’t know, I just never thought about it after that day...”

“I have,” Joshua admits. You look up at him, bewildered. “What? Of course I have! At first it was when I was still angry and bitter about it all. I’d ask myself what you saw in him or why you would like him over me. Then I felt sort of apathetic about it all. And then the more I thought about it, the more the two of you being together made sense to me. It was just my own biases standing in the way of that understanding.”

You shrug again, “I’m just fairly sure that ship has sailed.”

“Hmm, if you say so.”

*****

The most Wonwoo sees of you is the corner of your coat as you leave the dorm every time he arrives.

He wants to talk to you desperately but he’s worried about disrupting the peace between you and Josh. He knows how hard it was for Josh to lose his best friend and he never wants to be the reason that happens again.

That being said, he really misses you.

He and Josh had talked about it plenty over the last year. Their friendship had gotten stronger than ever and he was relieved that they had overcome the events of that night. He knew Josh was fine with the two of you speaking again, because Josh himself had spoken to him about it many times.

He also knew Josh had changed so much the past year and that his romantic feelings for you were no more.

But still, Wonwoo felt so much hesitation at the idea of reaching out to you.

It just sort of happens one night. He’s sitting outside and looking at the city lights when the front door of the dorm opens and you step out.

“I was going to go in but I wasn’t sure if you’re shift was up yet,” he jokes.

You grimace slightly. Yeah, not one of his best quips.

“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to avoid you.” Wonwoo lifts his eyebrows at you. “Ok, yeah, that was a lie, I was definitely avoiding you.”

Wonwoo shrugs, “I don’t blame you.” You sit next to him on the bench outside their building, looking out at the view.

“I was just kind of embarrassed, I guess. I hadn’t even told you how I felt and I still made a huge deal of seeing you with that girl that night,” you admit.

“Hey there’s nothing embarrassing about having feelings. Especially when they’re... reciprocated.”

“Hm... forgive me if I’m wrong, but usually when you have feelings for someone, you don’t run off with someone else,” you ask, hoping to keep your tone as light as possible.

“Yeah that’s not what you do,” Wonwoo nods. “Nothing was happening between you and me and well... Scarlett called me up for the first time in awhile and I just went for it. It was a stupid move, for sure. I should have just faced my feelings for you, confessed, and accepted the result.”

“I get it, though. It can be scary,” you say.

“It’s still scary now,” Wonwoo says.

“Huh?”

“Well I’m considering asking you to dinner so we can start over and try this for real. But I’m afraid that will just fuck everything up again...”

“Hmmm, well we can’t know until we try right?”

*****

You pause making breakfast to check the barrage of texts reaching your phone. You sigh and shake your head as you unlock the device.

An arm sneaks around your waist before a kiss is pressed to the back of your neck. “Is that Josh?” Wonwoo asks. You nod. “Did he tell you how his date went last night?”

“He’s currently telling me,” you show Wonwoo the string of texts your best friend has sent you. “How is he ever going to get to a second date with anyone if he’s this nitpicky,” you grumble as you type a response.

Wonwoo only laughs, reaching around you to flip the pancake on the skillet. Both arms return to your waist as he pulls you flush against him. “He just has high standards.” Wonwoo snatches your phone from your grasp and puts it down on the counter. He continues to sneak kisses wherever your shirt falls away from your skin.

“What do we have planned for today?” you ask.

“Well I don’t know about you but I plan on spending the whole day doing absolutely nothing with my perfect partner,” Wonwoo grins. He reaches around you once more to turn off the stove before dragging you out of the kitchen and into the living room.

“You had better be ready to finish cooking those pancakes for me when I get hungry,” you huff as you land backwards on the couch.

“Of course, baby,” Wonwoo pouts at you, scooting up so he can kiss your nose. “But for now... nothing.”

Wonwoo grips you tightly in his arms with promises to not let you go the whole day... or at least until one of you wants pancakes.

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snowmist-hashira · 10 months

Note

Heyy, I want you to know that your writings are wonderful! Like you can write Muichiro and Yuichiro's characters very well! So therefore, I have a request that you can do it anytime!

A heart warming scene between Muichiro × demon slayer/pillar/non-demon slayer!reader (it's up to you) who loves to play piano. That was the first time Muichiro ever saw that instrumen and then y/n offered him to play it together. Although he was a little bit hesitant at first, Muichiro accepted her offer.

I've been craving for this scene from Hotel Del Luna for a longgg time! This is how she would help him to play the piano, the song is Noctrune Op. 9 No. 2 so you can easly represent the atmosphere (For the position, the guy is y/n and the girl is Muichiro) Thank you, have a great day<3

[Chapter title: Melodic Reverie]

[Requested] Muichiro Tokitou x Reader

Wattpad:(One shots) Tokito Muichiro x Reader Archive:Kimetsu No Yaiba: Tokitou Muichiro x Reader Master list:♠ Information ♠ Word count: 904

Artist links; Pixiv & Twitter

I am open to requests for Muichiro x Reader content, and I also enjoy engaging in roleplays. If you're interested in either, please feel free to check out my pinned post for more information. ~ ♠

Thank you for your kind words! I'm delighted to hear that you appreciate my writing. I hope I was able to accurately convey your request. Your support means a lot to me. Thank you! ♥ (Scheduled)

Muichiro continued walking with his usual emotionless expression, but his footsteps came to a halt as he caught the sound of soothing music reaching his ears. His head turned instinctively, seeking the source of the melodic tune.

He approached Y/n's estate, he couldn't help but be captivated by the enchanting sight of the wisteria vines gracefully cascading towards the ground. Its gentle descent seemed to match the serene notes of the music he had heard earlier, creating a tranquil atmosphere that drew him in.

The mist pillar continued his steps, his usually emotionless expression softening as he took in the beauty surrounding him. The sound of the music grew louder as he neared the source, and he found himself being pulled closer, almost as if the melody itself was beckoning him.

Curiosity piqued, Muichiro approached the room where the sound of the piano was emanating from. The soft notes flowed through the air, intertwining with the delicate presence of the wisteria. As he peered into the room, he laid eyes on a piano for the first time, its elegant form and black and white keys captivating his attention.

Y/n was skillfully playing it, her fingers gracefully dancing across the keys, producing the enchanting melody that had drawn Muichiro to this place, the way she played seemed effortless.

Y/n continued to play the piano, her graceful movements mirrored the delicate and intricate nature of the music as her fingers danced across the keys, effortlessly producing each note with precision and skill, her body swaying in rhythm with the melody, displaying a deep connection to the music that transcended words. Muichiro remained in the doorway, captivated by the sight before him.

As if attuned to Muichiro's lingering presence, Y/n suddenly turned towards him, bringing both of them to a sudden halt. Muichiro blinked, momentarily caught off guard. He hadn't expected to be noticed, especially since he had been observing from a distance without making his presence known.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you there.” With a soft chuckle, Y/n broke the silence, apologizing for not acknowledging him earlier.

“It’s fine…” He trailed off, “What’s that?” He asked, curiosity was piqued as he observed the piano, his gaze focused on the intricate details of the instrument. He took a few steps closer, his eyes scanning the keys, the wooden body, and the overall construction of the piano.

“Piano. Never seen one?” Y/n’s question prompted him to shake his head slightly, indicating that he had never encountered it before.

"No, I've never seen one," Muichiro admitted, his tone reflecting his genuine curiosity.

Y/n smiled, “Want to try?”

Muichiro's gaze lingered on the piano, a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty swirling within his eyes. The prospect of trying his hand at this unfamiliar instrument both intrigued and intimidated him. He had never ventured into the realm of music before, and the thought of creating melodies seemed like a daunting task.

With a subtle nod, Muichiro accepted Y/n's invitation. He stepped closer to the piano, his fingers hovering over the keys and gently pressed a key to which his initial hesitation resurfaced as the sound of the piano key reverberated through the room, causing a momentary flinch.

Y/n softly chuckled, “Here.” she stood up and gestured towards the cushioned seat, inviting Muichiro to take a seat and make himself comfortable to which he complied.

Muichiro's eyes remained locked on the keys, his hands hovering uncertainly above them, filled with hesitation. He couldn't help but wonder how Y/n made it seem so effortless.

Y/n's smile widened as she observed Muichiro's endearing expression of confusion. She found his lost demeanor endearing, a charming contrast to his typically composed and focused nature.

Taking a step closer, Y/n positioned herself behind Muichiro, her body enveloping his with a comforting embrace, she leaned over, her chest against his back. She gently placed her hands on top of his, her touch guiding his fingers to the correct keys.

Muichiro's eyes widened at the unexpected touch of Y/n's hands on top of his. The closeness of their proximity and the warmth radiating from Y/n's presence created an intimate atmosphere that was both comforting and exhilarating.

A mix of emotions swirled within Muichiro, his heart beating a little faster. He had always been reserved and composed, unaccustomed to such close interactions.

"Feel the keys beneath your fingertips," Y/n softly said, guiding his hands.

Muichiro's heart continued to race as Y/n's voice resonated in his ears. He took a deep breath, allowing her words to penetrate his thoughts and calm the storm of emotions within him.

He began to lower his fingers onto the keys, trembling ever so slightly, a testament to the mix of excitement and apprehension coursing through his veins.

Y/n's guidance continued, Muichiro surrendered himself to the touch of the keys. He allowed his fingertips to press against them, feeling the subtle resistance and the resulting vibrations that echoed through the room.

His resistance melted away as he surrendered himself to the melody. The captivating notes resonated within him, creating a sense of solace that seemed to transport him to a different realm—one free from the burdens of demons and conflicts.

Their fingers moved across the keys, as the music enveloped him, its enchanting embrace drowning out the noises of the outside world.

The idea of stepping outside his comfort zone was daunting for Muichiro. However, he contemplated making an exception, just this once, for Y/n.

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